


In Plain Sight

by vampirekiwi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drug Abuse, Everyone is in therapy, Happy Ending, Multi, POV Multiple, Robb's in a band, Witness Protection AU, a few gory moments, all the cool kids are alive, drug mention, first chapter is an overview, mentions of abuse, mentions of overdose, there is a major fight scene, typical game of thrones ramsay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:57:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 53,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampirekiwi/pseuds/vampirekiwi
Summary: Sansa Stark's world is shattered when she's told Theon has died of a drug overdose. She begins to travel Westeros with her brothers while looking for herself again and trying to shove down memories of what should've been.Meanwhile in Dorne, Theon Greyjoy has shed his name and become Harras Sand after he testifies in a murder trial. A chance encounter reunites them five years later, and threatens to destroy everyone he loved from his past.Now, they must fight to keep the people they love alive - and themselves.





	1. An Overview

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! This first chapter is an explanation of the pairings that'll feature in this story, a more detailed description of what type of violence and gore you'll encounter in this fic, and a few other things I want to discuss before we actually jump into the fic. Now, that being said, while this fic does have a fair share of fighting, it's actually quite happy in the end, and very self-indulgent. 
> 
> The reason I'm doing it like this is because I want everyone to know what they'll be in for, without blowing up tags for a relationship that might only be mentioned in passing. That is a huge pet peeve of mine, and I don't want to engage in it. I wasn't too sure which characters to tag, so I might've gone a little overboard with those, I might adjust that later.
> 
> So, this isn't really a first chapter, it's an overview. The story is completed, and my goal is to get the entire thing uploaded by the end of the week.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory note: I don’t own ASOFAI or GoT. I don’t profit from this in anyway. It’s just for fun.

This modern AU is a shameless mix of show and book canon, in addition to me just wanting to have a band AU, mixed with a witness protection AU.   
  
The mentions of abuse are mostly Theon referring to Balon, who we all know is trash. There is a small flashback in which Sansa recalls seeing Robb with a black eye, and Theon getting stitches because of Balon.   
  
Theon has an overdose prior to the events of the story, and it is discussed often. It is a plot point and has a great impact on both Theon and Rickon. Theon also mentions he stopped driving for a long time because he was drinking and driving. This is not shown in the story, just discussed. There's also a few mentions of how different people deal with addiction and growing from things like this. Every person is different, and so is their recovery and addiction.   
  
Ramsay Bolton is Ramsay Bolton, so a terrible person. He is a mobster, and a murderer. He cuts off someone's hand and mails it to someone (this is described in the story). There is less violence in this than GRRM would've written, but it's definitely in there. There are fight scenes, and people do die in this story. Guns are used, and there is blood and decaying bodies. (This being said, there is no sexual assault in this story. There are a few rude remarks about Sansa's appearance, and Ramsay is a disgusting creep, as he is. I will tag for their interactions but I want to stress no one is sexual assaulted in this story.)   
  
I will be putting proper warnings in the notes above each chapter for the things I've mentioned above.   
  
This is a mature story, and features swearing, a steamy scene between our leads (but not pornographic, the kiwis decided we didn't like it), and violence. For now, I'm leaving it marked mature, however if you see it changed to explicit, it's based on the feedback from readers.   
  
There are a few POV changes, but Theon and Sansa are our main storytellers. All scene changes will either be marked with a '««««' (if it's a POV change, I'm going to bolding the arrows), or just a new chapter beginning.   
  
Please, let me know if you have any questions! 

Pairings:

\- Sansa Stark/Theon Greyjoy  


\- Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell

\- Willas Tyrell/Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand

\- Arya Stark/Gendry Waters

\- Rickon Stark/Lyanna Mormont

\- Smalljon/Wylla 

\- Jon Snow/Ygritte

\- Tormund Giantsbane/Val

\- Bran Stark/Jojeen Reed

\- Sansa Stark/Joffrey Baratheon (past, mentioned) 

\- Theon Greyjoy/Oberyn Martell (past, mentioned) 

\- Theon Greyjoy/Willas Tyrell (past, mentioned)


	2. Prelude Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter contains mentions of: 
> 
> \- violence, and abuse
> 
> \- drug abuse and overdose 
> 
> \- drunk driving
> 
> These are all mentions and not descriptions.

"Tell us what you saw, Theon." Jamie Lannister wasn’t a huge man, but Theon felt like he could crush him any second. He fidgeted in his seat and stared ahead anxiously. 

"I'd really rather not."

"We can protect you, Greyjoy," Jamie's partner Bronn said from where he was leaning against the wall. Theon let out a hollow laugh. He'd seen Ramsay Bolton slit a cop's throat and then the cop's partner help him cover it up. These two couldn't do anything to protect him. 

"We can make you disappear, Theon." Jamie said, sitting down across from him. "Bolton will go to prison, and you can start somewhere new, where no one knows you. Doesn't know your past, or your mistakes. It can all be erased." He rubbed his face and thought of Robb, who'd befriended him so many years ago, despite him being the smelly, mean kid in school. Robb had taken one look at him and dragged him home after school, announcing that Theon Greyjoy was his new best friend, and "Mom, can he spend the night, please?" 

After that, Theon almost never went home, instead pretending the Starks were his family even though he knew it was fake. Robb's siblings were loving and bright, his cousin sullen but funny, and Theon desperately wanted to be a part of it. When he was with them, his dad didn't exist, just for a little bit. He didn't have to think about the filth that he and Yara had grown up in, or the rage of their dad's drinking. The Starks were a gift from the heavens, of that Theon was sure. He couldn't just disappear, he couldn't. 

"Yeah, I'll pass."

"He'll kill you. But before he kills you, he'll kill your friends. Flay them alive." Bronn sat down next to Jamie and Theon flinched back. "We've seen him do it, remember Donella Hornwood? Starved her to death after he killed her husband and son." 

Ramsay hadn't met Robb, or Sansa, didn't know they knew him. Theon could protect them from him, it wasn't like that. 

"He'll probably go for the girl first, don't you think Jamie? She'll be easiest to get to, what with his good looks and charm." Jamie nodded, hmming softly. "Probably use her to get to what's his name, Robb Stark?" 

"Oh, you mean Ned Stark’s son," Jamie added in, tapping his pen on the table.

"Yep, that's the one. Bolton'll get both of them, and then he'll kill you Theon." His heart dropped into his stomach. 

"Stop it," he said softly, but Bronn continued on, detailing the way the Bolton would use the smiling Stark siblings to lure Theon into telling him what he knew, and then kill all three of them, but maybe leave him alive long enough to watch them die. 

"STOP IT!" Theon leapt up from the chair, his voice echoing in the small room. Bronn and Jamie looked up at him, Bronn with a smile and Jamie a surprised look. "What do you want me to do?"

"Testify, and we'll give you a new life. Ned will be advised to bring his children home and add extra security, and everyone will move on with their lives." Jamie leaned forward and Theon felt his shoulders drop. A new life. 

"But I can't see my sister again? Or the Starks?" 

"No, Theon Greyjoy will die. You'll get a new identity." 

"What about Yara? What'll you tell her?" Theon didn't want Yara to think he'd died, that after everything they've been through and dragged themselves out of, Theon just went and died before her. She'd take it as a personal insult.

"Theon," Jamie said, raising his hand to Bronn, "you'll be dead. Your sister and friends will all be told the same thing. We could do a car crash, or a hiking accident, lots of different ways to die." 

"They'd never believe a car accident. I don't drive, I walk everywhere or ride my bike, or Robb drives." Theon had stopped driving a long time ago, too much shame overwhelming him every time he got behind the wheel. Robb would never believe a hike, Theon never went without him. None of this would work. 

"We'll work out the logistics of your death later. For now, you need to tell us what you know." Theon took a deep breath, and began.

««««

The deal he made was simple, on paper. His testimony was recorded and his face blurred, his voice altered. The DA, a woman named Ros, and Drowned God if this was any other situation Theon would've flirted endlessly with her, assured him he wouldn't have to step foot in court, that Ramsay Bolton and his crew would go down without Theon ever having to be there. It didn't make him feel better though. They'd taken his phone and his laptop, destroying them before they locked him up in an apartment in a small town two and a half hours outside of Winterfell. 

"Robb's probably looking for me," he told Jamie one day when he and Bronn came to switch off guard duty with Harrion and Cley who are both friendly and closer in age to him than Jamie and Bronn. Jamie nodded thoughtfully, and handed him a sandwich. 

"He and Sansa are out almost every night looking for you, actually." It's the first time that Jamie answered him about it, and Theon's ears perk up. "She filed a missing person's report, and your sister has been looking all over the Riverlands for you, thinks you might've failed a class and taken off to sulk in the woods." 

"Reckon you're failing all your classes this semester, Greyjoy," Bronn added, sitting down next to Jamie and Theon glared at him. He'd worked hard to get his education back on track after the disaster of his freshman year. He'd almost lost Robb during that time too, too caught up in the chaos that his father dying had plunged him into. 

There were mistakes Theon had made he hated himself for almost every day. The drunk driving, the constant pill popping, anything to feel numb without anyone figuring out. The final straw had been when he'd raided Catelyn's medicine cabinet and overdosed on her Xanax. Rickon had found him in the bathroom that night, shaking and throwing up. The memory of waking up in the ER with Robb's tear stained face and Ned's disappointed eyes was enough for him to realize he needed to pull himself together, and with their help he had. 

Fuck Ramsay Bolton. 

"What was that?" Jamie asked, and Theon realized he'd said it out loud. He repeated himself and Jamie nodded in agreement. 

««««

"I know how you can kill me," Theon said three weeks into his hole up, and Jamie looked up from his newspaper, his eyebrows raised. 

"A drug overdose. No one would bat an eye, not once they accepted it." The truth stung, but Theon knew it nonetheless. Robb sometimes would glance over at him during a party while Theon nursed his one allowed beer of the evening. Sansa was always hesitant to give him a Tylenol out of her purse, and he'd stopped asking after the first few awkward silences. Yara was the only one who didn't seem to think he was going to go back to pills, and it was for the reason alone of "I'll fucking break your neck, you little fucking shit." 

Theon knew there were different levels of addiction, knew that some people couldn't do anything ever again, had to be completely sober. But so far he had been okay, the pills didn't call back to him, and if anyone had bothered to ask, he would've readily told them the weekly therapy and learning to process his own emotions had done wonders. He didn't need to drink to forget, didn't need to get high to feel nothing or feel something. 

One beer now and that was something to do with his hands at a party, a gentle reminder he was in control of his own decisions. He was careful with smoking pot, had rules for it too. Never smoke alone, never take more than three hits, never more than once a week no matter what. There are months where Theon went without smoking, instead just laying on the floor playing on his phone while the smoke carried around the room. But Theon didn't need to anymore, and that's what mattered to him.

"A drug overdose, huh? They'll wanna see your body." 

"Tell them you found me a river, I'm too decayed and gross to see. They'll all believe you. More than a hiking accident." Theon's chest hurt to say it, but it was the best way. If he had to die, make it believable, make it so Robb never went looking for him, so that Yara didn't waste her life chasing down fake ideas. Make it so Sansa only cried out of disappointment. It was better that way. 

Bronn agreed it could work, and like that they decided how he would die. In four days, Theon Greyjoy would be dead and Harras Sand would move to Dorne.

««««

Jamie and Bronn had gone to the apartment he shared with Robb, to pick up a few things that he had requested, a box of pictures, an old photograph of him with his mom and Yara, a graduation photo of him and Robb and the other Starks, his iPod, and some clothes. Everything else would get left behind, and Robb probably wouldn't even notice someone had been in the apartment. Theon sat and looked out the window quietly, Harrion and Cley playing some card game behind him. 

"Is it hard to start over?" he asked softly, and Harrion looks up from his cards. 

"You're young, so you'll have an easier time than most. And it's just you, so there's less chance of someone fucking up. But, it's not easy," he told him, and Theon groaned. 

"I just don't get why I have to go into Witness Protection, I guess. Let Ramsay rot, but why do I have to too?"

"The Boltons are a powerful family, Harras," Cley said, and Theon had to get used to it. Had to get used to being Harras, even though he knew he never would. "Roose Bolton would figure you out in a second. This is what's safest for you." 

"Would anyone care if I wasn't friends with Ned Stark's kids?" Cley and Harrion looked at each other, and Harrion came over to sit beside him. 

"We'd care." It was the truth, but he knew Jamie and Bronn would've left him to rot in whatever hole Ramsay Bolton put him in. 

"I never said bye. I just told them I'd be back," he whispered, and Harrion patted him on the back, but said nothing else. Theon was almost dead, and he never told his friends or sister goodbye.

««««

The next morning, Harrion and Cley loaded onto the train with him, discussing the logistics of moving to Dorne. 

"You guys are coming too?" It hadn't occurred to him that either of the young agents would be accompanying him past the initial move. Harrion nodded, with a bright grin. 

"Part of getting you comfortable is also scoping out the city. You'll be far from the Boltons, but you'll still need people to keep an eye on you for awhile. Cley and I volunteered, figured better us than Bronn and Jamie." 

"God they suck," Theon muttered and Cley laughed loudly. Neither of them were fond of their older coworkers, and for that Theon was grateful. 

"So, Harras, what do you want to do once we get to Dorne?" 

"Sleep for a week. Then scope out the school, I need to figure out my class route." He had begged and pleaded for a transcript, to be able to transfer and finish school. He wasn't sure how they'd managed it, but they had, and Harass Sand was twelve credits shy of graduating with an oceanography degree. It was enough, he'd decided, to know that Robb and Sansa would be safe, if he had his degree and his small reminders. He didn't want to think about the disappointment they'd feel once they were notified, didn't want to think about the way Yara's fists would clench and her brows would furrow. 

_ Please don't hate me forever. _ He thought to himself as he nodded off to sleep.


	3. Prelude Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb came into the apartment, wet from the rain and Sansa looked up at him sadly. 

"Any luck?" she asked softly, her eyes red. 

"None. You?" She shook her head and Robb sighed. Theon had been gone for over a month now, just up and vanished. The last thing he'd said to them was that he'd be back soon, didn't tell them where he was going, but now that he was gone this long, Robb couldn't help but wonder. He kicked off his shoes and ruffled Sansa's hair as he walked past her to the bathroom. His best friend wasn't in the habit of vanishing, or not telling anyone where he was going. He hadn't answered his phone, and when Robb had tried to track it after the third day, it had shown as being at an abandoned truck stop, and when Robb, Jon, and Sansa had gotten there they'd just found it smashed in the middle of the road.

He turned the shower on, and waited for the water to get hot. The worst case scenario kept popping into his head, Theon had relapsed, he'd overdosed and died in a ditch somewhere. He climbed into the shower and rested his head against the tiles, letting himself cry for the rest time since Theon had gone missing. He had been so certain the last four years Theon had been true to his word, nothing harder than a joint now and then. A beer every blue moon, and Robb knew it was true. If he wasn't with Theon, Sansa or Yara were. 

They weren't going to give up on him, he'd promised that to him the night he OD'd and had cried for hours in the ER, begging Robb and his dad to forgive him. 

_ I was never mad at you, Theon. Just scared. _

He let the water run cold before he dragged himself out. There was a clean pair of sweatpants and a shirt on the counter, courtesy of Sansa who must've put them in there without him noticing. She was taking Theon going missing harder than he was, and not for the first time, he wondered. He wondered what they did when he wasn't around, and about the small touches to her wrist and shoulder, and about how she would snuggle up to Theon during thunderstorms.

"Hey," he said softly, sitting down on the couch next to her. She sniffled and curled into his side. 

"Where is he, Robb? It's not like him to just take off. Not for this long." Robb didn't answer, just wrapped his arm around her and stared ahead blankly until his exhaustion overtook him. He didn't know how much time had passed when a loud knock jerked him awake. Sansa sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking over at him confused.

"Maybe Theon's lost his keys," Robb said and crossed over to the door quickly, throwing it open prepared to yell at him for just up and leaving without telling anyone where he was going. Instead, two men in black suits stood there, both with solemn looks on their faces. 

"Are you Robb Stark?"

"Yeah, that's me." 

"Does Theon Greyjoy live here?" asked the dark haired one, and Robb thought he looked like an angry bird of some sort, with his hooked nose and drawn together eyebrows. He just nodded, and the blonde man spoke this time. 

"Robb, is it alright if we come in, please? I'm Special Agent Jamie Lannister, and this is Special Agent Bronn Blackwater," Robb glanced over his shoulder at Sansa who stood by the couch trembling, all the colour gone from her face.

"Yeah, uh, come on in." He stepped back to make room for them, and the two men stepped inside. He closed the door and circled back to his sister, who grabbed his hand tightly. 

"You must be Sansa," Jamie said gently, and she nodded sharply.

"What do you want?" Robb interrupted. "Where's Theon? Why are you asking about him?" He stood up as straight as he could, pushing one shoulder in front of Sansa, a sudden desire to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. She shrunk behind him, her nails digging into his fingers so hard he was sure they would bleed. Jamie sighed, and motioned for them to sit down, but Robb wouldn't. He couldn't sit down. 

"No," Sansa whispered, her voice barely coming out, Robb almost missed it. 

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to sit down?" Bronn suggested, but Robb couldn't move, rooted to the spot. The men looked at each other, then back to him. 

"I'm sorry," Jamie began but Sansa burst into tears before he got anything else, a heart piercing cry that Robb desperately wanted to echo. "We found your friend yesterday morning in the river." 

"You're lying." The words tumbled out, and Jamie shook his head. 

"We're not lying, Robb. I'm sorry," Jamie said again, and Robb felt his entire body shake, the tears spilling out before he could stop them. Sansa was sobbing behind him, repeating that they were lying, Theon wasn't dead, he wasn't. But Robb could just look ahead, his vision narrowed as his stomach churned.  _ Dead, dead, dead. _

"How?" he asked finally finding his voice again. Jamie and Bronn looked at each other again, then at him. 

"Son," Bronn started but Robb spoke over him. 

"Tell me how." Jamie sighed, and Sansa buried her face in his shoulder. 

"Please don't Robb," she begged, but Robb had to know. He needed to know, had to know what happened to his best friend. 

"An overdose," Bronn said and Robb heard his breath hitch, and Sansa just cried harder. He turned around and fell down to the couch, clutching her tightly and burying his face in her hair.

_ Where did we go wrong? How didn't we se _ _ e it? _

His mind was foggy, and all he could think of was Theon's cocky smile when he'd left that afternoon.

_ It's my fault. I should've known. I should've seen it coming. I failed him. _

The thoughts kept rushing through his head, and he clung to Sansa like he was drowning, her loud cries covering his own. Theon was gone, and it was his fault. 

**««««**

"Get them some water, Bronn," Jamie said, and his partner nodded, walking off to the small kitchen that was opened to the living room. He could hear him clanking around, opening cabinets and then the faucet turning. 

_You were wrong, Greyjoy._ _They won't accept this either._

He called their parents, and spoke to Ned Stark for a few minutes, assuring him that Theon Greyjoy was really dead, and no, they couldn’t see his body. They’d identified him through DNA and dental records. They were on their way to track down Yara, they thought she might be here. No, they wouldn’t be releasing Theon’s body quite yet. 

Bronn had given him a worrying look in the car as they drove across the city to a small bar called Black Wind. Yara Greyjoy wasn’t a person who wore her emotions on her face, Jamie realized as they spoke. The differences between her notification and the Starks’ was the lack of tears, instead she chose to yell, and threw an entire bottle of whisky at them. Her process was one of loud accusations of lies, a flurry of anger, and then quiet acceptance. He watched as she slid down onto a bar stool, in silence, a hollow look in her eyes.    
  
“Little bastard’s left me alone,” she whispered as he and Bronn started to leave, and for the first time in his career, Jamie felt the guilt of his lies weigh on his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are enjoying so far!


	4. Time Heals, So They Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FIVE YEARS LATER

"Get over here, Harras. You'll miss the show!" Willas yelled from the blanket and Theon rolled his eyes. He would never get used to being called Harras, no matter how hard he tried. The first year had been the hardest, settling into a completely new place, with a new name and no friends, no family. His thoughts traveled back to Yara often, and there was a dull ache that never quite went away. He knew she must be disappointed in how her little brother had died. 

"Is watching Oberyn and Garlan hit each other with paddles really a show?" he asked as he sat down next to Willas who smiled warmly at him. 

"I think it is. Reminds me of the good old days." 

"You're hardly old, Willas," Oberyn objected, stretching out in front of them. Willas's pale skin, soft honey curls and bright brown eyes stuck out from everyone’s. 

Oberyn had been the first friend he'd made when he had come to Dorne. They'd shared a poetry class, which Theon had taken at random, and Oberyn seemed determined to make the professor crazy. He was tall and muscular, and had warm brown skin with black hair he could never decide if he was keeping long or short and always a black beard. 

"Old, no. A leg keeping me from wrecking you whenever I choose? Definitely," Willas answered casually, and Theon was still in awe of the ease between them. The night Oberyn had introduced him to Willas he would never forget.

_ "Willas, light of my fucking loins, this is Harras Sand. He's from the North and kisses like the devil. You should try it." Theon had felt his entire face go red, and had opened his mouth to object, but Oberyn kept talking. _

_ "Harras, this is Willas, who I'll never be rid of no matter what I do, including permanently ruining his leg." Willas had rolled his eyes and pushed Oberyn's shoulder. _

Willas had later explained that on Oberyn and he had been involved in a motorcycle accident that left his leg crushed and his knee shattered. He walked with a cane now, he said, and would for the rest of his life but overall it could be worse. His pain was managed, and Oberyn was more upset than Willas, in the end. 

_ "Honestly, I'm alive and I healed. My parents are more mad than I am, and Oberyn feels more guilt than I do. It sucks not being able to run the way I used to, or go off and do stupid things without planning them but, I'm too tired to be pissed." Theon would marvel at that for the rest of his life, probably, and often wondered if Yara and Robb felt worse about Theon's fake death than he did. _

"Alright, boys! Who's ready to see me knock Garlan into the water?" Oberyn yelled and Theon and Willas cheered. Garlan flipped them off from across the beach, yelling something that none of them could hear. Oberyn ran over to the younger Tyrell, whooping loudly as he hopped onto the large raft in the water. 

Garlan joined him quickly, and Theon stood up, offering his hand to Willas who took it and pulled himself up. Together, they waded into the ocean, Willas flopping onto the flamingo raft that Oberyn had dragged into the water, and Theon joined him, the water lapping at their feet. Ellaria was standing on the raft with the other two, brightly explaining the rules. Neither of them would follow them, but it was still fun to watch, Theon thought. Being in Dorne was nothing like being in the North. People here were friendly, and smiled easier. Things were slow and easy, once he got used to them. He'd found good friends, and enjoyed his job at the aquarium with Willas. It wasn't the life he had planned, but it was a life nonetheless. Some days the ache for his former life was so dull he forgot it completely, but then something would always happen to bring it back up. 

He'd hear a laugh that could be Robb's, or saw a flash of long red hair that he could've sworn was Sansa, or Ellaria would make a snarky remark that reminded him of Yara and the pain would shoot through his soul.

"What's going on in your head, Harras?" Willas interrupted his pity party, with a gentle whisper and fingers running down his back. Physical affection was another thing Theon had learned to enjoy over the last five years of his life in Dorne. Back in Winterfell, there hadn’t been that many people who hugged him, stroked his back just because, or curled up next to him for no reason other than because they could and they were friends. Sansa had been the only one who regularly sought out his touch, and sometimes he regretted how slowly he had returned her affections, but he had long since accepted it was better this way for her. Better to mourn an almost relationship, than to mourn a real one. Willas's touch grounded him more than he cared to admit, and he leaned into it like a cat. 

"Just thinking about my family is all." It wasn't a lie, not really. The Starks had been his family, at one point. Willas made a sympathetic noise, and Theon felt the familiar guilt for lying to his friends.

_"My parents died in a car crash, so I decided to come down for a change of pace." _

"Well, maybe I can distract you with some fun news?" Theon nodded and Willas kept on, "We have tickets to that concert tomorrow night, you know that band from the North, Direwolves?" Theon nodded, they'd had a few songs on the radio, and the voice was eerily familiar but he couldn't quite place it. He had decided he'd probably heard them play some bar show back in an old life. 

"That's awesome, you guys will have a blast!" Willas rolled his eyes and poked him. Theon grinned at him, feeling his face stretch. "Getting out of it was worth a try, wasn't it?"

  
And for that, Willas pushed him into the cool water, and Theon laughed as he broke above the water.

**««««**

Sansa sat on the hotel bed, texting Arya while the room buzzed around her.

_ Arya: is robb whining again _  
  
_ Sansa: Don’t be mean. Today is hard for him. _  
  
_ Arya: yeah, but how are you feeling_

_ Sansa: I’m alright, really. How’s Braavos? _  
_  
Arya: it’s great and gendry is a menace can’t wait for you two to never meet but this is about you not me _

  
She looked up from her phone, Robb and Rickon’s argument suddenly too loud to ignore. 

"You can't just not play the show tonight Robb. You knew this night was coming. This is our _ job _." Rickon was too wise for his 21 years, Sansa decided. Robb was 29, and still refused to face the truth. It was something Sansa found endearing yet excruciating painful. Theon was gone, and just refusing to acknowledge the day felt wrong. They couldn't keep running from the past and pretending that Theon was just off somewhere. He was gone, and had been for five years. Hiding wouldn't bring him back. It was an old argument, and one she'd given up having with him. Smalljon looked up from his book and Sansa rolled her eyes at him. He sighed and closed his book, inserting himself into the Stark drama.

"Robb, we can't cancel the show tonight, and I'm not filling in for you," Smalljon told him and Robb stared at him opened mouth.

"I don't _ want _ to," he said finally, crossing the room and laying down next to Sansa staring at her with sad eyes, and she tilted her head at him. 

"Robb," she started and he groaned, "listen to me. You can't keep running from this. Running won't bring Theon back. We just have to keep going." 

"Yeah, but-" 

"It's been five years, Robb. It's time to honour him, instead of mourning him," she said it gently, and his shoulders sagged. He nodded numbly, but stood up and walked out of the room, muttering he wanted to check out the pool. Rickon and Smalljon looked at each and then to her. 

"He'll be okay. Jon's down at the pool already, and I bet Jory will show up to offer so vaguely ominous advice too."

"So, just Jory's entire existence?" Smalljon asked, and Sansa laughed. 

Sometimes, she still couldn't believe the last five years had happened. The first year after Theon's death had been absolutely numb and bleak. Robb had drifted away from all of them, dropping out of school and throwing himself into his old hobby of music. It was a path she couldn't follow him on, instead desperately hoping their cousin and friends could bring him back. She was too far gone from herself to have even tried. Arya had been her rock that year, dragging her around the city, finding her Lady and moving into her and Robb's apartment and living on her couch while she grieved. 

_ "Just because it hurts doesn't mean you don't need to live!" Arya had screamed at her one night, tears spilling out and her voice raw. "You think I don't miss him too? You think we don't all miss Theon? We do Sans, but please don't make me lose you too." _

Robb had taken a little longer to come back, and when he did he had an entire album of songs he'd written, some of them about Theon, some of them just about growing up. Their dad had paid for them to record them, desperate to do anything for Robb to return to normal and Rickon had shocked all of them by offering to play the drums, and then being better than Sansa realized he'd gotten. 

_ Bad Memories _had gotten insanely popular after they released it, mostly due to artists like Arianna tweeting her love for their song Peace Sign, which was one of the only upbeat ones that Robb had managed to give to the album. Direwolves went on tour, and didn't stop for a year and a half. Sansa went with them, part of her was watching Rickon, the other part couldn't bear the idea of being so far from Robb for so long. She couldn't lose both of them, she'd decided. Once they'd finally returned home, she and Robb had packed up the apartment and moved back home, leaving Theon's ghost behind them. The world was softer now, she decided. 

Therapy helped, talking about the things that she missed about him helped too. She tried not to dwell on the what-ifs of his short life. Eventually, old parts of Robb started to peek through, the bad jokes and the spacey comments. 

As Direwolves worked on their newest album, Sansa worked on her art, painting whenever she could. Mostly flowers, she discovered was what made her the happiest. She would cover her entire life with them if she could. They were bright and happy, she told her therapist, something she hadn't felt in a long time. Shae had nodded thoughtfully, and suggested Sansa find a sunny room in the Winterfell halls to paint, and they'd both laughed at the idea of finding the sunniest room in a bleak city. 

After a year of work, Robb decided the album was ready.

_ "Are you ready?" he asked her as the other set up behind them and she grinned at him. _

_ "Always for your new music," she assured him, and he relaxed a little. Bran was chatting happily with Jojeen as they entered the room, something about the gardens they wanted to go to the next morning. Arya and Wylla stood close to her, arguing loudly over something but she could see the playful glints in both their eyes. Eventually, they all settled down, and Direwolves was ready to play their first song from the new album, "Arrows and First Men." It was almost perfect, and she felt the familiar longing for Theon. He should be here. _

_ It was about Theon, but it was about so much more. About overdose, and about loss, and Sansa hurt for it all. _

"Sansa, did you hear anything I just said?" Rickon interrupted her thoughts and she glanced over quickly. 

"No, what's up?" 

"Can we get pizza?"

Sansa burst into a smile, and Smalljon chanted pizza loudly, Wylla joining him. Pizza was ordered, and Rickon stood on the bed yelling while they waited, telling them some story about a fan he'd met a few days ago who'd given him her bra. 

"What'dya do with the bra, Rickon?" Smalljon asked, and Rickon paused before grinning wildly. 

"I still have it. I shall always remember the loyal Lyla and her lavender bra being thrown at me." 

"What a waste," Sansa said stretching out on the bed and laying next to Smalljon, "bras are horribly expensive, and you're definitely not worthy of keeping one." Rickon yelled his objections and Smalljon cackled. It was nice to laugh, to just take a few hours to be happy today. It felt right to be happy, after a few years of feeling nothing but guilt. Robb would get there eventually, she knew, but she hoped it was sooner rather than later. 

"Anyone wanna tell me why a man handed me three pizzas?" Jon asked as he trailed into the room behind Jory and Robb, who looked less put out than he had when he left the room earlier. Rickon cheered and hopped off the bed, almost knocking Jon into the TV. There was a lot of yelling, but eventually everyone was resettled, and Robb crawled under the covers, claiming he needed a nap rather than food before the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there's plot in this story, I promise.
> 
> Also? Rickon deserves a personality and I did my best to give him one. Unfortunately, that personality ended up being a memelord who probably has a popular tiktok account. Oh well!!!!!
> 
> I 100% used Arianne Martell as a pop star because when I first thought of how this all happened, I was listening to Ariana Grande. WELP.


	5. A Midsummer's Concert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bad Memories playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2VtnYywM1EgWjmWmKvIYNE)
> 
> [Arrows and First Men playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2AISvPwAIFi4pYrbp0civV)
> 
> -Mentions overdose and death, mentions of vomiting

Theon wiped his palms on his jeans again, not able to shake the feeling that going out tonight was a bad idea. It wasn't just it was the fifth anniversary of his death, but going to a concert where a Northern band was headlining felt wrong. He'd tried so hard to avoid anything to do with his former life, and Harrion and Cley had told him he'd adjusted well, and that they were always just a phone call away if he needed anything. In the years since they'd left him, he hadn't. Oberyn had befriended him quickly, and had stuck around even after they'd had a failure of a relationship. 

_ "You can't know if you're not compatible if you don't try, Harras. You still kiss like the devil!" he'd teased when Theon had eventually wandered back into their friendship after a lonely two weeks. Oberyn wasn't a good boyfriend for him, but he was a great friend. _

After that, Oberyn had introduced him to Ellaria, who he'd started dating. Ellaria was beautiful and intense in a way that made him think of Yara, and he loved her the most for it, even if he wouldn't admit it. 

Next had come the Tyrells, a loud and excitable family who had immediately drawn Theon into their fold when he'd revealed his parents were dead. Willas was gentle and artistic, always ready with a warm hug and a listening ear (they hadn't been very compatible in the end either, Theon had discovered). Garlan and his girlfriend Leonette were friendly and welcoming, always inviting everyone wherever they went, both of them loud and full of adventure. Loras was wild and free, always disappearing here and there with his boyfriend Renly who was as far from the Baratheon name as Theon could imagine. Margaery was clever and fierce, and he was sure that she and Sansa would've been fast friends.

It was just Oberyn, Willas, and himself at the concert tonight, Theon had discovered too late. Garlan and Leonette were busy doing some sort of couple's retreat, Loras and Renly were visiting his brother Stannis, and Margaery and Ellaria just didn't want to go. 

Willas was telling Oberyn some sort of story, but Theon couldn't follow it. His mind was too muddled with thoughts of the past and his own anxiety. Every girl with red hair made him jump, and every boy with the slight of curls caught his eye. Oberyn seemed to notice his jumpiness, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

"Hey, Harras, you wanna talk about it?" 

"Not particularly." And that was the end of it. Oberyn stayed close to him and Willas, keeping a careful eye on his friend. 

"You know he's fine," Theon told him and Oberyn nodded thoughtfully. 

"Yeah, he is. But I still worry, worry about you too. I just want everyone to be happy and healthy." 

"Okay, mom," Theon snorted and Oberyn stuck his tongue out. He left to go get beers, and Willas leaned against the metal bars at the front of the stage, hooking his cane on them. Theon didn't want to be this close, something still felt so off about the entire night, but Willas liked to be close, liked to lean on the bars if he could. It was either close, or far away sitting and tonight he'd opted for close so Oberyn and Theon had followed him to the front of the stage.

Eventually, Oberyn returned, and the crowd filled up and the stage went dark. Oberyn whispered something into his ear about no opening acts and Willas hushed him. The band took the stage, the lights still low, and a steady guitar and drum started up.

"Breathe in, breath out, everyone scream 'FUCK', I know I've gone too far this time," a voice crooned, and in person Theon knew it. His head snapped up quickly, and he would know that face anywhere. It haunted him in his sleep, those red curls and bright blue eyes. Robb Stark was on stage in front of him, and Theon felt his blood run cold. He was looking around the crowd, and Theon looked away quickly, hoping his eyes didn’t fall on him.

"My grandpa said, "Don't be afraid of death, he's just your oldest friend, coming back for what he forgot." He looked at the other men on the stage, Jon Snow was playing guitar, Smalljon too. He recognized Jory from high school, and gods, that was Rickon playing the drums. Rickon who Theon still saw as the scared, crying boy who'd rolled him over on the bathroom floor. He couldn't hear the rest of the song, too terrified of his past staring him dead in the face. Oberyn and Willas were singing along to whatever the words were, and he felt trapped between them. He had to get out. The sweat was cold against his neck, and the growing sense of dread grew. 

"I have to go to the bathroom, and then I'm gonna smoke," he yelled into Oberyn's ear, before stumbling out of the crowd and racing for the bathroom, holding down the urge to throw up. It didn't last though, and once he made it into too small stall, his head was in the toilet, and his dinner floated in it. _ If they're all here, _ he thought to himself, _ Is Sansa here too? _

Sansa with her glowing blue eyes and freckles on her nose. Sansa, who held his hand under the blankets during movies. Sansa, who had probably cried for weeks. He threw up again.

He waited for a few minutes, making sure his stomach was settled before he drug himself up and washed his hands, cupping water into his mouth and spitting it out. Looking in the mirror, Theon wondered if Robb would recognize him. He was older now, and wore a beard. He'd taken to dying his hair after Ellaria had done it once for fun. She called it a dirty blonde, and Oberyn said it made him look like a surfer douche. He was tanner than he'd ever been in the North where the sun never shone. Theon knew he looked different, but did he look different enough? He hoped he did, hoped it would be a passing glance of a memory if he ran into any of them. He slipped out of the bathroom, and headed outside, already fumbling with the cigarettes in his pocket. He sat down on the step, lighting one and taking a shaky draw. 

How could he have not realized? He'd heard Robb sing plenty of times in his life, knew how much he loved music. If anyone in the North was going to name a band Direwolves, it'd be Robb Fucking Stark. The smoke settled in his lungs, and he coughed. Someone sat down next to him, and he smiled awkwardly. Talking was the last thing he wanted to do right now, but the girl seemed to have other ideas.

"You look familiar," she said brightly, and Theon shrugged, taking another drag of his cigarette. He couldn't say for sure she did with green hair and wide set eyes, but she spoke with a Northern accent. 

"Sorry, love. Don't think I'd forget a beauty like you," he winked and she laughed loudly. 

"Careful, Smalljon might take you down." She was Northern, then, and traveling with the band. Leave it to Smalljon to date a girl with green hair. She watched him a little closer and he leaned back, his cigarette on the verge of being finished. 

"I don't know you," she said finally and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, "but you look so fucking familiar. Are you Northern?" 

"Nope," he said quickly, and it wasn't really a lie despite how long he lived there, "Ironborn." She nodded, and stood up. 

"Well, Ironborn, maybe I'll see you around." She left with a wave of her hand, and Theon held down the sigh of relief that came with it. He finished his cigarette and stood up, stretching. His initial panic was over, and if he stayed far enough from the stage, he was sure he could handle seeing all his old friends. If that girl ran around with Smalljon, she'd likely heard of Theon Greyjoy, and had probably seen pictures of him. But she hadn't recognized him fully, and that was enough. He headed back into the show, ordered another beer, and hung out at the edge of the crowd. 

Direwolves were fantastic live, he was pleased to find. Robb and Jon joked with the crowd, Smalljon yelled whenever anyone yelled to him, Jory smiled at every girl who screamed his name and Rickon, gods Theon didn't even know how to put the kid and the adult together. But he was friendly and loud, screamed over Robb whenever he could, and threw a waterbottle at his head two more songs in, yelling at him for being an emo fuck. 

"Alright, alright. We're coming down to the last couple songs of the night," Robb said to the crowd, and they all cheered. "So this song is going to be from our first album, and it's called 'Cul-de-sac' and I wrote all those songs in a really sad, dark spot in my life." Theon felt his breath catch in his throat, and he wanted to tell Robb he was sorry, want to yell all his apologizes. They launched into the song, and Theon found he recognized it, having heard Oberyn and Willas sing along to it in the car and at parties over the last couple of years. It sounded a lot like Theon and Robb's high school years, if he was being honest. Harsh memories pushed their way through, and he smiled. He knew he'd missed Robb, obviously, but seeing him and not being able to hug him, or speak to him? It was torture.

They played another song, that Smalljon yelled was called 'There's Nothing Holding Me Back', an upbeat and exciting dance song that sounded a little off from the rest of their songs, but that the crowd sang loudly. Then Robb backed away from the mic, whispering something to Jon who nodded at him. He repeated whatever he had said to the others and they all seemed to be in agreement. 

"So," Robb said, and his grin from the night faltered, "today is a hard day for me, and my family. And a lot of you guys might know that typically we don't play on this date. And it's because I prefer to bury my sadness in bad sports movies and pizza instead of dealing with reality. My sister and my bandmates bullied me into playing this show tonight, and I'm glad they did." He paused, and took a drink of his water bottle. 

"Five years ago today, my best friend died from a drug overdose. He'd been sober for four years, and then one day two cops showed up at my door to tell me he'd overdosed." the crowd fell silent, and Theon blinked back tears. "I threw myself into music to try to find myself, and him again. It hurts, every fucking day, and there are days I don't even want to get up because I feel like it's my fault." The crowd let out soft noises of support, and Robb sniffled. A soft cry could be heard from the stage, and Theon watched Rickon wiping at his eyes. 

"I miss him every day, and there's been so many moments he should've been around for, and just isn't because of drugs, and because no one cares about addicts once they've gotten started. It's bullshit, and I lost my best friend. Most of my songs are about trying to find a way out of the misery. I called this one Cigarettes and Saints, and it's the first time we've played it live. This one's for you, Theon." Theon choked back tears and Robb's voice was hollow. 

"Twice a week I pass by the sea that held your funeral, and the priest's words come pouring down like rain. How he called you a sinner and said now you walk in the halls, so the drugs that took your life aren't gonna cause you any pain. I don't think he even knew your name. And I refuse to kneel and pray, I won't remember you that way." Theon felt his chest clench, and he wanted to run, get out as fast as possible. Of course they gave his body to the sea, Yara wouldn’t have let them give him a Northern funeral, they were Ironborn after all, despite the move from Pyke so long ago. Theon’s fake body belonged to the sea, as his living body should as well. 

"I lit you a candle in every godswood across Westeros, and I hope you know you're still my patron saint. I tried to forgive, but I can't forget the cigar in his fist. I know that they were heartsick, but I need someone to blame, and I know how they blamed me. I know what you'd say you'd tell me it was your fault, I should put all my arrows away." Godswoods, the North’s religion that Theon scoffed at, and arrows, Robb made so many fucking references to archery Theon wanted to yell. 

_ "When did you get so fucking good at this?" Robb demanding, laughing loudly as Theon hit another bullseye. _

_ "I've always been good with a bow." Theon answered him, so proud that Robb was in awe of him. _

"I'm sure there ain't a heaven, but that don't mean I don't like to picture you there. I'll bet you're bumming cigarettes off saints."

_ "You should stop smoking," Sansa told him, her red hair pulled up, and hands shoved deep in her hoodie pocket. Robb was adding wood to the fire, and he laughed when she said it. _

_ "What, Princess, worried for my health?" Theon teased her, and she rolled her eyes. _

_ "Your health isn't nearly as important to me as you not smelling everywhere we take you." _

_ "Sorry, you'll just have to get used to smelly Theon." But she smiled at him, the flames casting a beautiful glow on her pale skin. Theon was sure he was a little in love when she curled into him by the fire. _

"And I'm sure you're still singing, but I'll bet that you're still just a bit out of key. That crooked smile pushing words across your teeth." 

_ Robb always sounded so much better than any of them, Theon realized quickly. Their shitty garage band might be for fun, but if Robb really wanted to go for it he could have a real music career. He was actually talented. _

_ "You're off again, Theon," he glared at him, and Theon grinned at him, all teeth and crooked. _

_ "I'm always gonna be a bit off, Robby." _

Too many memories were flooding back to Theon, and he dug his nails into his palms, trying to ground himself. He wanted to run and hide. Wanted to bury himself under his blankets and stay there until he forgot about this night. He couldn't focus on the words to the song, just focusing on breathing in and out. Once he finally was able to look at the stage again, Robb was standing on a speaker, the tears on his face shining in the lights. 

"Now we're drowning here under the waves," he sang, and the rest of the band called behind him.

"We're no saviors if we can't save our brothers!" 

"Drowning out under the waves!"

"We're no saviors if we can't save our brothers!" Everyone was chanting it now, and Theon felt dizzy. The song had to be ending soon, or he might throw up again. Robb was crying, and Theon was hiding in plain sight. _ I'm an asshole. I shouldn't have ran. _ He thought to himself. 

"Alright guys, this next part is really simple. I think you can handle it, and I'd love to have you sing along. You can't have my friends, you can't have my brothers. Think you got it?" The crowd cheered, and Robb went on, the entire building's voices mixing into his. 

"You can't have my friends, you can't have my brothers, you can't have my friends, you can't have my brothers," and then "You can't have me. No, you can't have me!" the last part was a scream, and Robb fell forwards off the speaker into the crowd as they cheered, and moved him around. 

The show as over now, Theon realized. He'd never returned to the front with Willas and Oberyn, and he snuck his phone out of his pocket and checked it. Texts from both of them, making sure he was okay. 

_Couldn't get back to the front, enjoyed from the bar. Sorry. Headed back outside to avoid the crowd. _ He shot the text off quickly, and turned to leave. As he rounded the corner, he ran into someone who let out a startled cry. Theon blinked, and looked down and Sansa Stark was looking up at him from the ground.


	6. Seeing Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey gang! So, this chapter has a flashback to Theon getting stitches and Robb having a busted after a run in with Balon. It's towards the end of the chapter, the abuse is described, just Sansa seeing Theon get his stitches. 
> 
> Wanted to give you guys a heads up. 
> 
> We've also got some POV changes between Sansa and Theon in this chapter.

Sansa grumbled to herself, the shirts she'd been carrying to the merch table on the floor in front of her. 

"Watch where you're running, honestly it's not-" her words stuck in her throat when she looked up because Theon was looking down at her. At least, she was sure it was him. He had a beard, and his hair was a dirty blonde instead of a golden red now and he looked so much older but the sharp nose and ocean eyes were all Theon Greyjoy. She must've stared too long, because then he was smiling at her and offering her a hand up. She grabbed it, head spinning and allowed herself to be pulled off the ground.

"Sorry about that! Trying to escape before the crowd does, I hate getting stuck in concert crowd, it's bad for my anxiety." The voice was a little off, the accent she'd grown up listening to faded and replaced with a heavy Dornish one, but it was _ Theon _. He just kept talking, picking up the shirts and putting them on the table. He moved with more grace and confidence then he'd ever had as a young man, and Sansa felt the tears trickling down her face. How was he here? Theon was dead. 

"Well, anyways. Good luck with your merch," he said, and started to walk off with a wave. 

"Wait!" Her senses all came back to her at once, and she ran after him. "Theon Greyjoy, you get back here right now." He ignored her though, and left the building, a cigarette already on his lips. 

"How'd you two get out here so fast?" he asked two men waiting out front, and Sansa couldn't believe he was ignoring her, after all this time. After _ pretending to be dead. _

"Snuck out while no one was looking, my leg was starting to hurt and I didn't want to wait in the crowd," a curly brown haired man said, leaning on his cane. The darker man laughed and knocked shoulders with Theon. 

"Can't believe you stayed at the back the whole time. Fucking loser." They talked for a moment more, and Sansa found her voice again. 

"Hey, what the fuck?" Was all she managed, and Theon raised his eyebrows at her. 

"Sorry, should I not have picked up the shirts?" 

"The shirts? What, no you asshole! You're supposed to be-" 

"Harras, you know her?" The brown haired man said and Theon shook his head. 

"Never met her. Bumped into her and knocked the shirts over but I helped pick them up." Sansa looked at him, and she felt crazy. She was looking at Theon, not some guy named Harras. 

"You must have a doppelgänger, then huh?" The other man asked and he nodded. 

"Sorry, Princess," the not Theon, but definitely Theon, she was sure, said. "You've got me confused." He grinned at her again, and he and his friends left. But Sansa knew that voice, knew that phrase, and how Theon's mouth moved around the word 'princess', he'd said it into her skin so much it was permanently carved there.

Sansa headed back into the concert hall, Wylla and the merch table waiting for her. She was already behind it, smiling at people who'd come to buy shirts and CDs, and giving advice about keeping the vibrant colour of wildly dyed hair. 

"What about you?" a girl caught Sansa's attention, "Do you wash your hair hot or cold to hold the colour?" 

"Oh, it's natural." Sansa said, still thrown off by seeing Theon here. The Dornish girl grinned at her. 

"I'm super jealous, gods that red is amazing. You're so lucky." Sansa thanked her, and answered a few more questions about the band, but she felt so tired. She had been so sure it was Theon, but she saw Theon more than she cared to admit. She saw him everywhere she went, whether is was Dorne, the Reach, or even Essos. He was a shadow that haunted her and never seemed to quite fade. She wanted to tell someone what she'd seen, held herself back from texting Yara, who would've been on the next plane down to search the entire city. 

"Sans?" Wylla touched her shoulder gently, and she snapped back to the task at hand. 

"Sorry, just thinking." Wylla nodded and hugged her quickly, before returning to the large crowd that had gathered. Eventually the boys rolled out for photographs and talking, and it was already close to midnight by the time they finished boxing everything up. Robb wandered outside with a far away look on his face, and Sansa left Smalljon and Jory to help Wylla load everything into the van.

"What's on your mind, Young Wolf?" she asked quietly, sitting down on the step above him. Robb looked over at her, and rested his head on her knees. 

"I thought I saw him, in the crowd," Robb whispered, and Sansa's heart jumped into her throat. "I saw some guy down in front, and it could've been him I swear. But when I looked again, he was gone." 

"I thought I saw him too," Sansa confessed, and Robb sighed heavily. It seemed neither of them would ever be free of missing Theon Greyjoy, no matter how hard they tried.

"Let's get drunk!" Rickon said, as he dropped down onto the steps next to them, and Robb groaned. 

"You've been insufferable since you became old enough to drink," Jon joined them, a gentle whack to Rickon's head. Rickon stuck out his tongue, and Sansa smiled sadly. She was still surrounded by people she loved, but not to have Theon was an ache she wasn't sure would heal. She could hear Smalljon, Wylla, and Jory behind them and she knew it was time to go. 

"I think drinks and dinner would be nice," she agreed, and Rickon cheered loudly. Rickon, who was still young and excitable, who hadn't grieved with them the same way, he always looked for ways to make everyone laugh, to bring them all together. _ Like Theon did. _ She thought, and reached over to ruffle his hair. 

Rickon ducked out of her reach and complained he was too old for such things. Smalljon says he'll get them an Uber, and soon they're all packed into a car and on their way to what the driver assures them is the most popular bar in all of Sunspear.

**««««**

Margaery and Ellaria joined them for drinks, despite not wanting to go to the concert. 

"Was it terribly emo?" Margaery asked, and Oberyn threw his head back in laughter. 

"It was, and Willas loved every second of it," he reported. Willas just laughed and took a drink of his beer. Theon wrapped his hands around his coffee, and looked at his friends in front of them. They could never replace his friends in the North, but they'd carved out a different part of his heart, and Theon couldn't imagine what life would be like if they found out his secret. He'd been terrified when Sansa had recognized him earlier, had been so scared. His body had shot into survival mode, anything to get away from the sudden danger of his old life. 

He knew Ramsay Bolton was still in prison, and would be there the rest of his life, but Theon was also in sort of prison himself. It was more dangerous now, that Sansa thought she knew him. But surely the band wouldn't stay in Sunspear too long, and he could continue on with his life.

"Harras made a friend," Oberyn announced, and Theon's head shot up. 

"A friend? That's hard to believe, who'd like him?" Ellaria teased and Theon grinned at her. 

"I didn't make a friend, don't worry, Ellaria. You're still my only one." She rolled her eyes and threw a peanut at him. "But, nah. I knocked over the merch girl, and I must have looked like her ex boyfriend or something because she was flipping out." It felt wrong to talk about Sansa that way, but Harras Sand didn't know Sansa Stark.

"What'd she call you? Theon?" Willas asked, and he shrugged. This conversation made his skin crawl and he just wanted it to end. Thankfully it did, moving on instead to Margaery teasing Willas for his love of emo music, and Oberyn defending his taste. Ellaria snuck over to Theon and snaked her arm through his. 

"So, Harras. How were my boys tonight?" 

"We were all on our best behaviour, and Oberyn held Willas's hand on the way over," he reported and she grinned at him. He didn't really get what was going on between the three of them, but they seemed happy and that's all he cared about. Oberyn and Willas would get wherever they were going on their own, and Ellaria was enjoying every second of it. 

"Pity you managed to ruin relationships with both of them before I met you. I might've dragged you in," she said, pushing some of his hair back from his face and he grinned at her. 

"You'd hate me in bed, I bet our styles are too similar." 

"Probably, but it would've been fun to try." She squeezed his arm and he laughed again. In the calmness of the night, it was almost like he could forget his earlier panic of the night. He knew he couldn't though, and once he returned home he'd crawl into his shower and sob. Sob for his old life, for how Robb had cried on stage, and how Sansa had looked like her heart had broken right in front of him.

Theon was used to lying, it was second nature to him at this point. Lying about who he was, and about his past. If he tried hard enough some days, he really was Harras Sand, an Ironborn orphan who'd moved to Dorne after his parents died with a small inheritance. But in the dark of the night, tucked away in bed he was Theon Greyjoy, the Northern raised Ironborn who had nothing but his sister and the smile on his face. 

_ I miss Yara. _

He wondered how she was, if she was still running the dingy bar she'd bought, or if she had moved onto bigger and better things. Did she ever get married? Was she happy? Did she miss him? These were all questions Theon would never have the answers to, mostly because he couldn't bring himself to look into it. If he googled Yara, he was sure it would just make him miss her more. Instead he lived in ignorance, and ignorance had led him to knocking Sansa Stark into the ground.

**««««**

Sansa wasn't sure what to think of the hippest bar in Sunspear other than it was loud and crowded, which was what Robb had wanted. He was still cycling through his emotions and Sansa couldn't blame him. She wanted to go back to the hotel and lay in the tub, holding her head under the water until her chest hurt. 

She couldn't do that though, so instead she shot off a text to Shae, apologizing for the lateness of it, but she was having a harder time dealing with the day than she thought, and could have they have a phone session in the morning? She wasn't too concerned, she knew Shae would call her tomorrow, and they could talk it out. Rickon was saying something to her, but she wasn't really listening, and he eventually gave up and moved over to Smalljon and Wylla, who seemed to agree with him.

"Do you wanna go back?" A gentle touch to her waist and whisper in her ear finally broke the trance and she turned to see Jon looking at her concerned. 

"No, no. I'm fine. Let's get a drink." Sansa forced her way to the bar, Jon trailing behind her. They ordered and waited for a moment and she took in her surroundings. To her left, she noticed the two men from earlier, who had been with the not Theon. _ Is he here too, then? _ she wondered as the bartender handed her a vodka cranberry. A loud laugh answered her question, and she looked to the dance floor to see him twirling around a woman. Sansa's chest ached and Jon nudged her. 

"What's up, Sans? You're a million miles away." 

"That guy, doesn't he look like Theon?" she asked him, and Jon squinted. 

"Sort of, not really," Jon said and she looked at him, her nose crinkled in surprise.

"They could be twins,” she insisted and he shrugged.

"Eh, I suppose." Jon hadn't seen him up close though, Sansa knew. If he did, maybe he'd agree. The not Theon and the woman returned to their group, and Sansa felt a bit of guilt rising. It wasn't him, but she desperately wanted it to be.

Jon chatted softly beside her, and she watched as Robb and Jory moved onto the dance floor. Robb was now three shots in and seemingly happier than he'd been a bit before. A thin brunette was grinning at him, and Sansa smiled softly as Robb gestured wildly, no doubt telling her some sort of story about his band. The woman laughed and Robb grinned. _ Good, let him be happy tonight. _

Something kept tugging her eyes back over to the group of people near the bar, and the not Theon. He talked with his hands, and slammed the table occasionally when he seemed to be making a point. His friends all laughed loudly with him, and they seemed a cheery bunch. She moved down a few seats, mostly to keep an eye on Rickon who was now dangerously close to standing on a table, and also because she wanted to hear what the not Theon was saying, wanted to piece together his voice. She watched as he leaned across the table to snatch something from his friend, and his shirt rode up showing a long jagged scar all the way across his back and looking like it rolled up his spine. 

_ Wait. _

Sansa heard her glass fall from her hand more than she felt it, but she couldn't look away. Even once the skin was covered again, the scar was screaming at her. People could change the way they spoke, they could change their hair colour, and their names, but they couldn't change their scars. And Sansa _ knew _ that scar, she knew it like she knew her own.

_ Sansa watched in horror as Luwin stitched up Theon's back at their kitchen table. Her parents were out of town, some work meeting in Kings Landing, and Robb had begged and pleaded with their family doctor to keep this a secret. Robb and Theon had shown up an hour earlier, their hands wrapped tightly, Robb with a quickly forming black eye and split lip, and Theon's face and back bloody. _

_ "What happened?" she whispered, and Robb just stared at Theon quietly. _

_ "Not all parents are as nice as yours, Princess," Theon said, his voice hissing with pain as Luwin stitched his skin shut. _

Sansa's heart caught in her throat, and she dug her nails into her hands to keep herself from running forward to him. The noise from her glass breaking got his attention though, and he turned to look at her. Their eyes met, and Sansa watched as his went wide with shock. She didn't know what he said to his friends, but he was taking off towards the back of the bar. 

"Sansa, what the hell?" Jon asked, shaking her shoulder. 

"I'm fine, it just slipped. I'll be right back, I have to go to the bathroom." And she took off after him.


	7. Heaven is Here With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I was fighting with whether or not I was happy with this chapter, but ultimately just decided to go for it.
> 
> As far as warnings go, there's a slap, and Theon talks about what he saw, but not in great detail.

Theon reached across the table to snatch his phone out of Willas's hands, as the rest of the table laughed and felt the stickiness of the night on his back. As he sat back down, he heard a crash and turned to see Sansa staring at him, eyes wider than the ocean and mouth opened. 

_ ‘Fuck’ _was the only thing that came to mind, the thought she must've seen his back, and she would know. Sansa would know it was all a lie, and that he was Theon Greyjoy, a runaway disappointment, and not Harras Sand, a steady man. He bolted for the bathroom, saying something to Oberyn as he went. He leaned against the wall,trying to focus on his breathing and slumped down, hanging his head between his knees. He'd been so close, almost home free of never having to worry about the Starks recognizing him and then his own body had betrayed him.

He knew she'd seen the scar on his back. What would she do now, he wondered. Run and tell Robb? Cling to Jon and demand they follow him? Or simply ignore it? The last choice was the least likely, but he really didn't know. After a moment, Theon got off the floor of the bathroom and turned on the sink, splashing water onto his face. The door swung open, and he looked over to see Sansa darting in, and then pressing her back against it, her face wracked with fear.

**««««**

Sansa didn't know what to do, now that she was in the men's bathroom with him. If someone else had been there she would've played drunk, said she just went into the wrong bathroom. But it was just the two of them, Theon with water dripping down his face and a hollow look, and her with tears threatening to spill. 

"Sansa," he said and moved towards her, but she reeled her arm back and the sound of her hand against his cheek echoed through the bathroom. Theon looked at her, his mouth hanging open and she felt the tears on her own face. He backed away from her a bit and sighed. 

"Yeah, I guess I deserved that." 

"That and more. Gods, what the fuck Theon?" 

"Hey, don't yell." His voice was sharp and she wanted to slap him again. Who was he to tell her what to do right now? After he ran off and made all of them think he was dead? 

"I should. I should go and get Robb right now, actually. See what he thinks. Do you even know what he's been through since you 'died', Theon?" She threw air quotes around it and his shoulders dropped. 

"Listen, it's complicated, okay?" 

"Complicated, really?"

"Yes, just, gods. I can't even explain it properly. But you can't tell Robb." 

"Like hells I can't." She turned to open the bathroom door, but Theon grabbed her wrist. 

"Really, you can't. Sansa, please," he begged and she glared at him. He was in no position to bargain with her, but something in his eyes made her pause. He was scared of something, she realized. 

"Theon, what happened?" 

"I can't explain, not here." 

"Can't or won't?" 

"Can't, but. Here, come back to mine and I'll tell you everything. I promise, but you can't tell anyone. Not Ricken, not Jon, not even Robb. Do you understand?" She nodded, pulling her wrist away from his hand and he gave her the most pathetic smile she had ever seen. 

"Meet me out front in five minutes. I promise I can explain, okay?" Sansa muttered an agreement, the desperation to understand outweighing her want to tell Robb. He left the bathroom and she followed shortly after, her head still buzzing with whatever possible explanation he could hope to offer.

**««««**

"That was a long piss, Harras. Get lost in there?" Oberyn asked when he returned, and Theon did his best to grin at him. His eyebrows rose up though, and he knew he wasn't convincing. "Hey, seriously, what gives?" It was a gentle question, Oberyn whispered in his ear and Theon just shrugged. 

"Haven't felt good all day, I think I'm gonna head home, actually. Might be coming down with something," he told him, and Oberyn nodded, his face still carrying a small worry. No one here knew him better, and not for the first time, Theon resented not being able to be honest with the people who had become his family. 

_ What would they think of me, if they knew? Would they think I'm a coward? _

After many hugs and promises to text when he got home, Theon had his jacket on and was slipping out the front door. Sansa was already outside, her arms crossed and staring out at the road, and he took a moment to really look at her. She was tall and thin, like she'd always been, her long red hair in a bun. She had more freckles than she used to, he realized but it suited her. She wore a yellow flannel over her tank top and jeans tucked into a pair of combat boots that reminded him more of Arya than her.

The Sansa in his memories always dressed in pastels and sandals or heels, and worried if she was out in the sun too long, she'd be overtaken with the freckles and that her skin would start to match her hair. The Sansa who was waiting for him was a mystery, and he wanted to spend hours picking apart any pieces to the puzzle she’d hand over.

"Ready to go?" he asked her, and she turned to face him. Her blue eyes were still red from crying, and he pushed down the urge to reach out and hug her.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess," she told him and he nodded. He pulled out a cigarette, and lit it, watching how it still made her nose crinkle the same way, and her upper lip curl. 

"Right, well this way." He started walking away from the bar and after a moment, she followed her stride catching his quickly. 

"You still don't drive?" 

"I do, when I need to. I have a motorcycle, actually. But it's nice out, and I don't live far. I figured the walk could be good." He looked over at her and she was watching him, a guarded look on her face. _ No more than you deserve, Greyjoy. _

"Who are your friends?" 

"Ah! Now that's a good question. Oberyn Martell is the dark haired one, he's the first friend I made out here. We dated for a little bit, actually. Willas Tyrell, he's the other one you met, with the curls. I work with him. They're great. Keep me honest, keep me busy. Ellaria is Oberyn's girlfriend, she's a first grade teacher which you wouldn't even imagine when you meet her. Margaery is Willas's younger sister, and from the looks of it, very into Robb, at least for the night. Who knows with her? You'd like her, though. She's clever, and funny."

"Oh, fascinating. I'd like my replacement." Her voice was dull and Theon flinched. 

"No one could replace you Sansa Stark, even if I tried." They turned the corner and Theon sighed. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he needed to get out in the open and beg for forgiveness for, but it had to wait. 

"Looks like you've done a fine job of replacing and forgetting." He could hear the bitterness in her voice, and he wanted to argue, wanted to tell her that wasn't what he was doing at all, but wasn't it? Wasn't he filling in the gaps of missing Robb and Sansa with another brother-sister team who made him smile? Was Oberyn simply a stand in until Theon couldn't take it anymore? He took a drag of his cigarette and shook his head. 

_ No. No, they're not replacements. I'm allowed to have a life. A life I took to protect the people I love. _

"That's all good, but you don't know what you're talking about," he shot back, and she glared at him. Theon had seen her annoyed before, of course but not in so many years. The glare that cut him was all her mother's and he felt his back straighten up for it. Catelyn Stark always did invoke the desire to present himself better, and it seemed that Sansa had inherited it. 

"Then tell me." 

"I will, I promise." They walked in silence after that, and finally after what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes, reached his house. It was small, and he needed to mow the lawn, but it was home. She followed him up the small path and in when he opened the door to an enthusiastic greeting. Smiler jumped on his hind legs, and pushed his front legs against his calves, barking. 

"Yes, hello! Hello, Smiler, my handsome boy!" Theon said, reaching down and picking him up. The dog barked again and licked his face.

**««««**

  


A dog. Theon had a dog, and he named him Smiler, of course he did. She wanted to laugh, to reach out and pet the dog that Theon was snuggling with such excitement, but she dug her nails into her palms instead. She looked around the small living room, and took in the life he'd built. There was a giant aquarium near the window, a TV and a sofa and a coffee table, and a ridiculously huge dog bed. Bookcases lined most of the walls, and they were crammed with books, games, movies, and records. The hallway had shoes scattered about, and there were hooks on the wall with coats hanging up. There was a doorway that opened into she could see was the kitchen, and another hallway that probably led to the bathroom and bedroom. 

"Now, Smiler. This is Sansa Stark, you know, the Sansa I tell you about? I know it's a surprise to meet her, but you have to be nice to her she's had a really ruuufff day," Theon said to the dog and she raised her eyebrows at him, but he ignored her. Instead, he just held out Smiler to her, and she reached out and took the dog from him.

"Oh, um. Hello, doggo. What sort of a dog are you?" she mumbled, and he just barked and licked her face. Theon was kicking his shoes off and walking over to the aquarium, announcing his return home to the fish inside it. Sansa set Smiler down on the floor and he hopped off after him. She followed and watched as Theon opened the lid and dropped what looked like shrimp into the tank. She realized it was two of them, then. Set up on different levels next to each other. There was a small fish swimming near the top that he fed flakes. 

“He’s an Thennic Sheepdog, I rescued him when he was a puppy two years ago,” Theon told her and she smiled at the dog as he pushed his snout against the glass of the aquarium. 

"Oh gods!" She jumped back, startled by the small shark that zipped out of the skull on the bottom and snagged one of the shrimps. 

"Now that," Theon said proudly, "is Yara." Of course he named a shark after his sister. _ His sister. _ Did Yara know he was alive? She glanced over to him, and it was like he was reading her mind. "She's just as in the dark as everyone else. No one, except you and a couple FBI agents know I'm alive. You're part of a super secret club now, Sansa."

She blinked a few times, registered what he said to her. 

"What?" she asked and he shrugged, replacing the lid on the aquarium and moving to the other, sprinkling more flakes in. 

"That's the easiest way to explain it. I fucked up, got in over my head, _ again _, ended up in Witness Protection and now you're in my living room," Theon replied and she glared at him again. He sighed and walked into the kitchen, and she followed hot on his heels. "It would've been nice if you'd taken off yours shoes, you know." 

"Fuck you." 

"Fair enough." His voice was tight though, and Sansa knew this game with him. Theon put up walls, and made jokes to distract from his panic, to hide behind.

Sansa watched as Theon moved around the kitchen, and she looked at his fridge. It was decorated in magnets and pictures, some with him in them, others of just his friends. One looked familiar though. 

"Is that Bran's birthday?" she asked, taking it off the fridge and Theon looked over to see. The picture was blurry, but she could make out her brothers, sister and Theon around a fire, Bran in his wheelchair and the others on the grass around him, and herself shoved between Theon and Robb. 

"Yeah, it is. Jojeen took that, I think," he told her and her face softened. 

"Theon, what happened?" she said finally and he sighed. 

"A lot. A lot, and I'm still not even sure of my own choice, y'know? I thought I was doing the right thing." 

"I'm sure." 

"Don't say it like that, you don't. You haven't even heard the story yet, here let's go sit down." He handed her a glass of water, and lead her back to the living room. He settled down on the couch and watched her, and she sat down on the other end, took off her boots, and pulled her legs up to her chest. 

"Alright, so what's this big mystery Theon? What'd you do?" 

"Bold of you to assume this is my fault, but fair."

**««««**

Theon stared at his hands for a minute before he started talking. 

"So, that night I left? I went to go buy pot, because Robb was complaining he wanted to relax but couldn't, and you were freaking out about something or another, probably finals, and I just wanted us to have a good time. I texted Dagmer, you remember him, weird dude, missing a bunch of teeth, always muttered about the sea of sins?" Sansa nodded, and he kept on, "So I went to go buy from him, and he told me to meet him at this old warehouse, I figured it was where he was hanging out or whatever. When I got there though, there were these two cops arguing out in the middle of the floor, and I ducked behind some old crates because I figured it was a sting or whatever. I didn't want to get caught in the middle of it. And then I heard this other voice, right? So I poke my stupid ass head out to look." He looked up from his hands for a moment to Sansa, and she was staring at him, her eyes focused in on him like some sort of movie. 

"And I realized it was Ramsay Bolton." 

"Ramsay Bolton?" she asked, disbelief heavy in her voice.

"Yep! Ramsay Bolton right before my fucking eyes, hanging with these two cops. and I'm like 'Fuck Theon, what've you gotten yourself into now?' and the one cop makes a move to arrest him, which makes sense and Bolton just." Theon felt his gut clench even just thinking about it. Sansa looked like she wanted to say something but he kept going. "Bolton just brings out a knife and cuts the poor dude's throat, almost takes the poor bastard's head off. His partner's just standing there laughing, and they start covering it up and I fucking bolted. I just ran." 

"If you ran, why didn't you come home?" Sansa's voice is pinched and tight, and Theon wondered if she believed him.

"Because on my way home, I get picked up by these two FBI agents, right? Grab me and shove me in the back of the car, say they saw me coming out of the warehouse. They take me down to the station and start hounding me about what I saw. I kept telling them nothing, that I just wanted to go home. I knew you guys were worried." Theon felt his throat swell with the words, and it feels right to talk about this with someone, he hasn't been able to before. He couldn't trust a therapist, everyone had a breaking point, or a point they were bought at. But Sansa, he could trust.

"Theon." The way she said his name sounded like home, but he needed to get it out. Had to make her see he didn't leave willingly, that he wouldn't have just left her and Robb behind if it wasn't for a good reason. 

"And then they start talking about you and Robb. About how Ramsay saw me, and would be able to figure out who I was. That he'd go after you first, then Robb. Use you two to lure me out to make sure I didn't rat on him. They told me that he'd kill you both, and make me watch. And I thought about how he was still free despite everyone knowing who he was. And what he did to Donella Hornwood, but that no one had cared. And fuck, if a congressman and his wife aren't safe, two out of six of Ned Stark’s kids aren't safe either." Theon doesn't know when he started crying, but the tears are hot on his face. 

"And then they're talking about Yara, and how she doesn't have the same kind of protection you two do, how no one would look for her except for me. That Ramsay would wreck her, and the only way I could keep anyone safe was to help them put away Ramsay, and they would make me disappear. That it would be safer for all of you if I vanished. So I did, I let them kill Theon Greyjoy, and I helped put Ramsay Bolton in prison. They moved me out to Dorne, and I've spent every day since as Harras Sand. And I want to think I made the right choice, but now you're here and you're on my couch crying and I don't know anymore." Theon finished and Sansa's biting her lip, tears covering her cheeks. He wanted to reach out and push them away, or pull her to his chest and hold her there like he would've five years ago, but he lost that right. 

He lost it the night he made the choice to help bring down Ramsay Bolton, he realized. He traded away his loyalty to his sister and Starks, and it just hurt them more.

**««««**

Sansa watched Theon as he talked, told her everything that had happened five years ago, and coming from anyone else, she would've said they were lying, but Theon wouldn't lie to her. Not about something like that. Everyone knew that Ramsay Bolton being put in prison was a subject of great debate and that no one knew for sure what had put him them, or his crew. 

And it had been Theon. Goofy, loud, obnoxious, who was supposed to be her boyfriend once she got up the nerve to actually tell him that, Theon. Five years later, and he was so different from the man who'd gone out that night. 

"We're all alive Theon," she said softly, and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "We're all alive, and he's in prison. Why couldn't you come home?" 

"That's not how this works, Princess. I don't get to come home." 

"But, Dad could protect you. He could, and you know it." 

"Do I? How do I know that if I hadn't done what I did, Ramsay Bolton wouldn't have mailed your head in a box to your parents?" She recoiled back from him, and he sighed heavily. The image was disturbing, but she knew he was right. 

"Why didn't you let us know you were okay? I don't understand why you would think just dying was the best option." 

"Because you would've come after me. Or Robb would've. Yara would've flown the fucking plane here herself if she knew. And Ramsay could've had any of you followed. I just wanted you guys to be alive. And you are, so I've done my job. But Theon Greyjoy is dead, Sansa." 

"Does that mean I can't know Harras Sand either?" She leaned forward again, and put her hand on his shoulder. She could see the ocean in his eyes when he looked back at her, and she sniffled a bit. Her emotions were a mess, Theon was alive, and he was healthy, and in front of her, but she couldn't keep him, she realized. She couldn't bring him back to the North, couldn't scream from the tops of towers that Theon was alive, and that she missed him. 

**««««**

"You were never supposed to know him." Theon watched her as she thought about what he said. It was true, Sansa Stark and Harras Sand were never supposed to know each other, in any life. But here they sat anyways, and he still felt drawn to her the way he used to be. Sansa was always his 'person', as his mom used to say, when he and Yara were so small.

_ "Everyone's got a person out there. Not everyone finds them, but if you do, you know. And once you've got your person, they're it, little fishes." _

"Sans, hey, don't cry," he muttered, scooching over to her and wiping her cheeks with his thumb. She laughed a little, and smiled at him. 

"You're an asshole." 

"I've heard that a lot, I'm not surprised." And then she was hugging him, tangling herself around him, and he felt a huge weight lift off his chest. He tugged her closer, and buried his face in her hair. They sat like that for awhile, and Theon almost wished they could meld together completely, never be apart again, but those were wishes for children in the end. 

"So once I leave, should I forget I ever saw you?" she said into his ear. 

"That'd be for the best, but..." 

"But?" 

"I don't want you to forget." It was selfish, Theon knew. It was selfish to ask her to remember him if he couldn't follow her back home to Winterfell. She buried her face in his neck, and Theon slid his arms around her waist. If contact was what Sansa needed, he was more than willing to give it to her. They didn't speak again for awhile, until she pulled away from his neck and looked at him, her blue eyes dark and wide. 

"How can I just go home knowing you're here?" 

"Stay. Tell Robb you've found a beautiful little house you can't bear to part with and you're never going back to Winterfell. We could run away to Braavos, if you wanted." He meant it as a joke, but if Sansa asked him to he would without hesitation. She laughed at him, her real, blinding smile finally coming back onto her face for the first time that night. Gods, Theon had missed that smile. He had missed the way it made her nose crinkle and her eyes shine like sapphires. She ran her fingers through his hair softly, tugging at the back once she reached it. 

"Braavos could be nice, this time of the year. Or maybe we could go to Pentos, stay the summer." 

"Sansa Stark, are you flirting with me?" he asked, smiling widely up at her. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

"Kind of you to notice, I was afraid being away for so long you might've forgotten." He laughed loudly, and the way it brightens up her eyes makes his gut clench for a moment. This isn't real, it can't be real. But Sansa is here with him right now, and she's not angry anymore. Eventually, she settled down into his side and they watched some horrible show on Netflix, Smiler at their feet dozing, and Sansa told Theon about the last five years. 


	8. Healing Powers On a Disappointed Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, this is purely fluff and self serving!! 
> 
> And by 'oh no', I mean I had a great time writing these two dorks still being in love and having feelings and dumb emotions to work out.
> 
> Title from Sense and Sensibility.

She talked about her wolf dog, Lady, that Arya had adopted for her. She told him about Robb and Jon getting matching tattoos, howling wolves on their biceps. Stories about Bran going off to college in Qarth and worrying their mother terribly. Rickon didn't go to college, instead shipped off immediately with Direwolves, and Arya was studying abroad in Braavos, and was possibly married but no one was really sure or had met Gendry. She weaved the tales of their lives without Theon and he devoured every word. 

"What about Yara? What's she been up to?" he asked, and she paused, looking up at him. He’d taken her hair down awhile ago, and tangled his fingers in her hair, curling around the ends.

"She's still got the bar, works nonstop. Named three different drinks after her useless siblings as she likes to say," Sansa teased and Theon grinned. 

"All three of us were useless, it's true. We all went off and ditched her too," his voice was bitter, even if his touch was gentle. Sansa knows the night will eventually end, and she'll have to carry the worst and best secret in her heart. She reached up a hand to stroke his cheek and he pressed a kiss to her palm. The way he was looking at her, Sansa knew it too well. He used to give her the same look after a long night of studying, with his leg pressed up against hers. The look that said he wanted her.

She pulled herself up on top of him, her hair falling around them like a veil. She mapped all of him to her memory, the new lines on his face, some of age, a few scars she has questions about. There’s gentle lines around his eyes that crinkle when he smiles now and she pressed a soft kiss to them. One of his hands is on her hip, the other reached up and curling through her hair to hold her head. Leaning up, he pressed a kiss to her mouth. 

It's soft, and warm, full of apologizes for lost time and broken promises. His lips were chapped and firm, and his nose bumped against hers a few times before they find a rhythm, but it's the best kiss Sansa’s ever had. His beard scratched her face gently, and she smiled at the feeling. She bit at his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth, kissing her harder. She curled her fingers into his shirt and darted her tongue into his mouth. He tasted like coffee and mint, a lingering smell of cigarettes on him, and she could spend forever like this.

Theon groaned a little, and pulled at the hair he held in his hand and she felt like she could melt into him. It's been so long, and he's here and he's alive. 

**««««**

If someone had told Theon this morning that he'd be under Sansa Stark in his living room after confessing to being in Witness Protection for the last five years, he probably would've thrown himself in front of a car just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. 

But he wasn't dreaming, and Sansa was kissing him, and she smelled like lemons and tea and home, her lips soft and warm, her nails digging into his shirt, and her chest heaving. He tugged a little harder at the hair in his hand, and the noise she makes, a soft mewling he thinks could make him come undone.

"Bedroom," he managed to choke out after a moment, and resented having to let go for her for even a second, but he wrapped her hand in his and led her into his room. He felt nervous suddenly to show her his room, the walls are covered in fairy lights and posters, a few pictures stuck up here and there, and for some reason, a ridiculous number of plants. Sansa smiled at him though, and told him it suited him, even the huge unmade bed shoved into the corner, and the mountains of pillows on it. 

He closed the door behind them, and kissed her again, urging her backwards until the bed is behind her and she falls more than sits onto it. She reminds him of the sea, with her clue blue eyes and the way she pulled him down. Theon would gladly drown in Sansa, giving his life just to know the full force of her power and beauty. When there’s nothing more between them, he tells her he loves her, whispering the words into her skin and mouth, her grasp pulling him deeper into the roaring waves that is all her. When they both finally come up for air, she’s in his arms and staring up at him, he kisses her and puts everything he can into it, years of apologizes and missed memories, chances they’ll never get back. He begs her to forgive him, promises he loves her, gives everything that’s left to give in the kiss and she smiles against his lips.

  
“I love you, Sansa.”

  
“I love you too,” she whispered, and felt him grin against her skin. They were silent for a few more minutes, before he pulled off of her and slipped into the bathroom. 

**««««**

She looked around his room again, taking in the warm glow of the lights and the decorations on the wall. A framed painting hung by the bathroom door, of an ocean and a beach, and it brought a smile to her face. Theon had found the sea, here in Sunspear. It would make Yara smile, if she knew. He emerged from the bathroom, opened the bedroom door, and crawled back onto the bed, throwing his arm around her waist and nosing her cheek. Smiler bounded through the door, yipping loudly and jumped onto the bed with them. 

  
“Stay?” he asked quietly, and her heart caught in her throat. If she left now, it would be it. Theon would still be dead to the world, and Sansa couldn’t know Harras Sand. It wouldn’t be different if she left in the morning. “Please?”

  
  
“Yeah, of course,” she smiled at him and he sighed happily. “Hey, can I use your shower?”

  
  
“Mhm, through there. Use whatever you want,” he responded sleepily, and she slipped off the bed and into the bathroom. Sansa closed the door and leaned back against it, staring at her feet. This wasn’t how she had thought this was going to go, when she had agreed to come back with Theon to hear his story. The first thing she’d thought he had started popping pills again, got too scared and ran off, but it was the opposite. Theon had a life here in Dorne, and she’d just barged into it by accident. Crossing to the shower, she fiddled with the knobs until warm water flowed and she crawled in, her mind heavy.

Over the last five years, Sansa had learned to keep a lot of secrets. She’d learned how to hide the misery from her ill fated relationship with Harry, she had hid the meltdown that had been her history professor Petyr Baelish, and she’d learned how to lie. She had been a terrible liar as a child, but part of moving on and growing up from Theon’s death was learning to put up walls and convincing everyone she was okay. 

_ But Theon’s not dead, not really. _ She thought as she opened his body wash. It was some fancy brand that she vaguely remembered him whining about how much it cost when they were younger. It smelled like cedar, and fresh earth, and she sighed softly as she lathered it onto her skin.

  
Lying to Robb was never easy, no matter how good she got at it. Eventually he always found out the truth, and if he found out that she knew Theon was alive, that she had kept that from him it would destroy him completely.

  
“Fine mess you’ve made of things Sansa,” she mumbled to herself as she grabbed the shampoo and conditioner in Theon’s shower. Citrus scented, like he used throughout their childhood, she realized, and smiled numbly. Five years hadn’t made much of a difference in some things, she decided as she washed her hair. The water was going cold around her, and she finally turned off the shower and stepped out, searching for a clean towel. Once she found one, she wrapped it around herself and reentered Theon’s room, suddenly feeling much smaller than when she’d come into the house.

  
“Hey,” he said without looking up, his eyes focused on a book in his lap, a hand scratching Smiler’s head.

“Hey yourself,” she said, pulling her towel tighter. She felt rooted to the spot she stood, watching him like he was putting on a play. He’d put on pajama pants, and was leaning into his mountain of pillows.

“I, uh, got a sweatshirt for you, if you want it?” His voice was uncertain and he finally looked up at her. She nodded and crossed back to the bed, picking it up from where he’d pointed, and put it on. She crawled back onto the bed and watched him quietly, running her fingers through her hair.

  
“What are you reading?”

  
“Sense and Sensibility,” he told her and she smiled. Smiler yipped from beside him and she leaned over to scratch his ears.

  
“We should talk,” she said softly and Theon nodded, and she could see the anxiety on his face.

“Yeah, we probably should.”

“So, what now? Do we just pretend we never saw each other? Do I go back to pretending you’re dead?” Theon sighed, cracking his knuckles. Her questions hung in the air between them, and he looked desperately wanted to hide himself away. Sansa started to reach her hand out, but hesitated slightly, before gently settling it on her knee.

  
“Is that what you want?” he asked finally and she bit her lip.

“I don’t know, I don’t think so. But I can’t tell Robb, can I?”

  
“Robb can’t keep a secret to save his life. Remember when he spoiled Jon’s surprise birthday party?” he laughed a little, and she remembered the amount of effort they’d put into Jon’s twenty first birthday party, and how Robb had shuffled awkwardly into the bar, trailing behind Jon who was definitely not surprised.

  
“Gods, how could I forget? Or how he managed to tell everyone he lost his virginity, like right after it happened?” Sansa smiled at him as he groaned.

  
“I miss him,” Theon said after a moment, “I miss all of you. I miss Yara. I miss _ home _ . But this is my home now too, and if I left, or had to give it up, I’d miss everyone here too.”

  
“He misses you too, we all do. I don’t know what’s worse though, thinking you were dead or knowing you’re alive and that I can’t see you again,” she said softly, pushing hair behind her ear.

  
“Sorry about that, I shouldn’t have been there tonight,” he said finally and she tilted her head. “I didn’t know that it was Robb’s band, or I wouldn’t have gone. I would’ve just holed myself up here until I was certain you’d all left town.” There was a sad truth in Theon’s words and she shook her head.

  
“I’m glad that you didn’t. I’m glad I saw you tonight, and even though I’m probably going to spend the next three months of therapy rambling about how I can’t talk about what I need to talk about, I’m glad we’re here now,” she said and he smiled at her weakly. Even though the guilt of keeping Theon a secret from Robb was already settling in her heart, she couldn’t bring herself to stay angry at herself.

  
“I don’t want to go back to pretending you’re dead,” she told him and he nodded, “I know we can’t stay in contact, not really. But I don’t want to pretend tonight didn’t happen.” Some of the fear left his face when she said that, and it calmed her nerves a bit.

  
“Good, good.”

  
“Theon,” laughter bubbled in her chest, and she let out a giggle, “Theon did you think I was just going to have sex with you and just tell you I wished you were actually dead?” He burst into laughter and shook his head.

  
“Well, not that you wished I was dead, but that it was a mistake. Or that you hated me, I don’t know Sansa! I haven’t seen you in five years, and now you’re here and we slept together and you’re wearing my college sweatshirt and I’m still in love with you so I’m not really thinking too clearly here.”

  
She fell onto her back, her head landing on the mountain of pillows, laughter shaking her chest. He fell beside her, laughing quietly and she reached her hand over, dragging her fingers through his hair.

  
“You’re an idiot, Theon Greyjoy,” she told him after she caught her breath, and he grinned dopily at her. They stayed like that for awhile, talking softly into the night. Eventually, her eyes got heavy, and he kissed her forehead.

  
“Good night, Sans. Love you,” he said and she snuggled up to him, pressing her face into his neck.

  
“Love you too, Theon,” she mumbled, sleep calling her name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt really on the fence about this chapter as well. I think I'm feeling really nervous because this is the first time I've uploaded fic in like... five years, probably. So, I'm probably being overly critical of my writing when I know I'm writing this for fun and to create a neat world with fun characters and an eventual chaotic event. 
> 
> I hope this chapter is fluffy enough for everyone 
> 
> In case anyone's wondering, Smiler is based on Icelandic Sheepdogs are who hysterically adorable, great pets, and incredibly vocal. 
> 
> [Icelandic Sheepdog!](https://www.dogbreedplus.com/dog_breeds/images/Icelandic-Sheepdog-002.jpg)


	9. Miss Missing You (Now and Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa groaned as her phone chimed loudly and repeatedly, and she curled further into Theon’s side. The sun peeking in through his window, casting a gentle glow over him as he slept. He snored softly, the rise and fall of his chest behind her arm reminding her he was alive. She pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder and he stirred slightly, the arm around her waist pulling her closer. Just as she was drifting back to sleep, her phone rang loudly, Robb’s ringtone blaring across the room. Theon’s eyes snapped open and he looked at her, dragging his hand across his face.

  
“Time is it?” he asked, sleep rough in his voice and she shrugged, rolling over and fishing over the edge for her phone where it peeked out of her jeans. Theon followed her, pressing against her back and kissed her head. “You gotta go, huh?”

  
“Yeah, seems like it,” she answered quietly, scrolling through her missed texts. Robb had sent her the most, demanding to know where she was and why she’d turned off her location. Smalljon had sent one that just said they were leaving at noon, Jory’s repeated the message from Smalljon and asked if she needed a ride. Rickon had sent her several eggplant and raindrop emojis, along with a text that said ‘USE PROTECTION I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE AN UNCLE’. She chuckled at that one, holding it up from Theon to read over her shoulder. She smiled as his laugh rumbled against her, and she opened Jon’s texts next, which were just more of the same. Theon brushed her hair aside and pressed his lips against her neck.

  
“Wish you didn’t have to go,” he said and she grinned before pulling away from him and standing up to stretch.

  
“But the sooner I leave, the sooner I can come back,” she said through a yawn and Theon tilted his head at her. “Unless you don’t want me to come back?” 

“No, I do. We just have to be careful, if you want to do this, Sansa. You know that right?”

“Yeah, I know,” she paused, putting her jeans back on before sitting back down next to him and rolling the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to her elbows, “I just can’t go back to Winterfell and never see you again, Theon.”

  
“You’re gonna be telling a lot of lies, Princess,” he said pushing hair back from her face and she shrugged.

  
“I’ve told worse lies, lately,” she told him and reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’ve gotta go, Theon.”

  
“Yeah, I know. You wanna go for a ride?” He asked, a wicked smile on his face and his eyes twinkling. 

**««««**

Theon got dressed quickly, a grin still on his face. Smiler jumped off the bed, dancing around his feet as he headed into the kitchen, yelling to Sansa to follow him. He fed Smiler and crotched down to scratch his ears.

  
“Okay, buddy. You be good while I’m gone, okay? I’m gonna take Sansa back to her hotel and then when I get home we’re gonna lay on the couch and watch The Princess Bride and cry because we’re lonely.” Smiler barked at him, holding out a paw and Theon shook it. “Yeah, I know Smiler, but she’s gotta go home. We’ll be sad together.” Sansa laughed softly and Theon looked up at her. She was leaning against his fridge with her arms crossed lightly, a warm smile on her face. Standing up, he crossed back over to her and cradled her face in his hands gently, pressing his forehead against hers.

  
“Theon,” she said quietly, and he sighed. They didn’t have a lot of time to get her back to the hotel, but surely they had time for one or two, maybe seven kisses if he had his way. Like she was reading his mind, she kissed him, her lips soft under his. He smiled against her mouth, tilting his head slightly and biting at her bottom lip. She wrapped her fingers into hem of his shirt, pulling him closer to her. He moved his hands into her hair, tangling his fingers in her soft hair. After a moment, she pulled away and tucked her face into his shoulder. 

  
“Who needs breakfast when I’ve just been given a whole snack?” Theon teased, and he could hear her groan. They separated from each other, and Sansa knelt down to scratch Smiler’s head.

  
“See ya later, Smiler,” she told him and he barked again, laying down on the floor and rolling onto his back. She stood back up and he motioned her to follow him into the garage.

  
“So, a motorcycle?” she asked, a playful tone in her voice.

  
“A motorcycle. Oberyn and Willas got me into it, actually. I wasn’t sure I would like it, but it’s honestly really relaxing. Plus it’s super fun to go fast, who knew?” He grabbed an extra helmet from his workbench and she raised her eyebrows. “I’m not normally a helmet person, but I’ll wanna set a good example for you. Plus, if someone’s out front, I’ll just be your mysterious one night stand with a motorcycle.”

  
“Arya would be insanely jealous,” Sansa said and he plopped the helmet on her head. She reached up and flipped the visor up, and winked at him. He rolled his eyes and opened, the garage door, before putting on his own helmet.

  
“Alright, so,” he said, throwing his legs over the bike and kicking up the stand, “just keep your feet up and hold on tight, Princess.” Sansa sat behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist. He wheeled out of the garage, started the bike and revved the engine a few times until Sansa laughed. He took off down the driveway, and her laugher turned into a small yelp for a moment, as he sped up down the road.

  
“Squeeze once if you’re good, squeeze twice if you’re not,” he said loudly, and she squeezed him tightly, her fingers digging into his sides. As he weaved through the streets, he committed to memory how Sansa felt on the bike behind him. Too soon the hotel came into view, their time together vanishing in seconds. He pulled the bike to a stop, throwing his feet down to steady it while she unwound herself from him. She took the helmet off and smiled widely at him, her hair wild from where it had blown in the wind.

  
“Sansa!” He looked over and she turned, to where they saw Robb suddenly appearing near them. “Good timing. We gotta go!”

  
“Gimme a second, Robb!” she yelled back and turned back to him.

  
“Not gonna say good-bye, Theo- Harras?” she asked, catching herself before she said his name, and he sighed, kicking the stand down and getting off the bike. He hung her helmet on the handle of his bike. He kept his back to Robb, flipping his visor up to look at her.

  
“He still watching?” he asked, speaking lowly.

  
“No, he’s turned around,” she told him and he whipped off his helmet quickly, tucking it under his arm. She smiled widely at him, her eyes shining bright in the afternoon sun. There was a bit of sadness in them too, but Theon couldn’t fix that particular problem right now. He leaned forward instead, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth. She kissed him back, her hand gripping his shoulder, and he snaked his hand down to her back pocket, giving her butt a light squeeze and leaving the paper he’d scrawled his email on there.

  
“GET IT SANSA,” a voice yelled and she pulled away with a groan.

  
“Be quiet, Rickon!” she yelled back and sighed. Theon stepped back from her and put his helmet back on.

  
“See ya, Sans,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze before he got onto the bike. She winked at him, and he watched as she walked towards Rickon who was still yelling. She said something to him Theon couldn’t quite make out, but as he pulled back onto the road, she turned back and waved at him brightly. He waved back quickly, before darting into the afternoon traffic, trying to keep the nasty weight of guilt out of his chest. 

**««««**

Rickon grinned at her, knocking his shoulder against hers. “Who was that, Sansie?” he asked and she rolled her eyes.

  
“None of your business, surprisingly enough,” she teased, focusing on the easy banter with her baby brother. She was worried if she let herself dwell too much on Theon’s short goodbye she might cry, and she’s certainly cried enough the past twenty-four hours. He squinted at her, his floppy curls held back by a headband he probably stole from Arya, and then shrugged.

  
“Bran’ll figure it out, and then he’ll tell Jojeen. Jojeen’ll tell Meera, and Meera will tell Wylla, who’ll tell Lyanna who’ll te-”

  
“Rickon, why would she tell you the identity of a stranger?” His eyes light up, and he stood up straighter.

  
“Because, my favourite red-headed sister-”

  
“I’m your only red-headed sister,” she pointed out and he just got louder.

  
“Lyanna Mormont is the love of my life. Lyanna Mormont told Stannis Baratheon to go fuck himself and it is still the best day of my life. She could murder me, and I would _ thank _ her, Sansa. Lyanna Mormont could destroy an ice giant if-”

  
“By the gods, not this again,” Jon interrupted, setting the bags he was carrying down by them. “Rickon, have you tried asking her out?”

  
“One does not simply ask Lyanna Mormont out! I’d probably have to beat her in a fight first, and I’m not sure I could,” Rickon told him and Sansa groaned. Rickon’s crush on his former classmate was old news, but despite all his boasting and dramatics on tour, he was shy and awkward around her, and as Sansa had witness many times now, able to stick his foot in his mouth every time they spent more than twenty minutes together.

  
“Rickon,” she said, picking up her bag from the floor and tossing into the van, “Lyanna wouldn’t keep subjecting herself to your inability to socialize like a normal human being if she didn’t like you, you know that right?”

  
“I can socialize fine! I can socialize fine, right Robb?” Robb came back into view, Littlejon and Jory trailing behind him, Wylla on Littlejon’s back, still sleeping.

  
“Yeah, you’re super cool, my little dude,” Robb said, a bright dopey smile on his face. “You’re great at talking.” Rickon threw his arms out at Robb in ‘told ya so’ gesture and Jon and Sansa both rolled their eyes. 

  
“I wouldn’t believe a goddamn word he says, Rickon,” Smalljon added on, depositing Wylla into the van, “you’re a good kid, but yelling ‘Did you know Direwolves can see the future’ at Lyanna didn’t get you real far, did it?”

  
“What! They _ can _ , everyone knows it,” Rickon snapped and Robb agreed with him. Jory jumped into the conversation, arguing with them both.

  
“The future can eat my ass,” Jon mumbled to Sansa before getting into the driver’s seat of the van. Sansa sighed, and pulled her phone out of her pocket, staring at the screen. The lock screen was an old picture of her and her siblings plus Jon and Theon, shoved together and grinning widely, a four year old Rickon in the middle of all of them.

  
_ How much we’ve all grown. _ She thought to herself, looking at all their smiling faces, unaware of the realities that awaited all of them. Rickon was still yelling when she looked up, now squatting low to the floor and pointing both hands up at Smalljon.

  
“Rickon, c’mon,” she called, “get in the van. I’ll help you text Lyanna.” Rickon shot up and at her, cheering loudly. As everyone loaded into the van chatting loudly, a chill ran up Sansa’s spine. and she turned to look behind her, digging her fingers into the sleeves of Theon’s sweatshirt. She saw a bush shake, and her stomach clenched. It felt like someone was watching her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling. After staring at the bush for a moment, she joined the rest of them in the van, shoving herself between Robb and Rickon, pulling her legs up to her chest. Rickon was talking loudly, still yelling at Smalljon over the seat, and Jon was begging them both to shut up. She glanced over to Robb who was watching her quietly, his almost permanent wide grin replaced by a troubled frown. When she looked at Robb, she could see herself easily, their bright blue eyes holding a similar worry, but for vastly different reasons.

  
“What?” she asked finally, and Robb raised his eyebrows.

  
“You stopped sharing your location with me last night,” he whispered and she bit her lip. “Stopped sharing it with Rickon and Jon, too.”

“I was busy, Robb,” she whispered back, and he shook his head.

  
“You’ve never turned it off before, ever.”

“Robb-” 

“I was scared, Sansa. I didn’t know where you were and I couldn’t get ahold of you, you were gone,” he said and she glanced over at Rickon, who had shoved his headphones and was typing away quickly on his phone. The rest of the van seemed to be busy as well and she looked back to him.

“You don’t need to know where I am all the time, I was fine. I’m sorry I scared you.” Robb stared at her, shaking his head. His red curls stuck up, and she noticed the bags under his eyes. Robb was getting older, Sansa realized in that moment, and the solemn look reminded her of their father. “Robb, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What if we couldn’t find you? What if I lost you, too?” he asked, searching her face for an answer and her shoulders dropped.

“You’re not gonna lose me, Robb. I promise, okay?” she said, reaching up and ruffling his hair. He leaned into her touch like a cat, and then rested his head on her shoulder.

  
“I can’t lose you too, Sansa,” he mumbled and she felt the guilt build in her. Theon was still lost to Robb, and probably would be for the rest of their lives. She mumbled a few comforting words and he pulled away after a few moments, the same tired look on his face, but eyes a bit brighter. She smiled at him and tried to ignore the yelling in her head about lying to him.

**««««**

Two months of emails and quick skype calls later, Sansa found herself smiling at her phone, scrolling through the long email Theon had sent. It rambled about his job at the aquarium, the camping trip he was planning with his friends, and how he was pretty sure Willas, Oberyn, and Ellaria were officially all together. He’d also attached a ridiculous amount of pictures, some of Smiler, some of the fish he worked with, and the rest of his friends doing things like eating, walking and swimming, and a few had him in them, grinning widely and living.

It still brought goosebumps to her arms, that Theon was alive, and thriving in Dorne. She couldn’t tell anyone, and had spent a few awkward sessions with Shae, trying to explain what had happened in Dorne without giving away his secret. The hardest part was lying to Robb, who was constantly nagging her about the sudden pep in her step, but she just kept avoiding the question, distracting him instead with teasing questions of Margaery. Theon and Sansa had shared numerous emails about the irony of it all, that Robb had fallen so deeply for his friend without even realizing that Theon was there. 

Arya’s name rolled across the top of her screen and she pulled the message down, smiling at her little sister’s text.

> _Arya: if i throw gendry from a boat is it murder? _  
  
_ Sansa: Why are you wanting to throw your maybe-husband from a boat? _  
  
_ Arya: he wants to come to winterfell and meet you lot i can’t get the idea of his head_
> 
> _ Sansa: I, personally, would love to meet Gendry. He seems nice. _
> 
> _ Arya: sorry i can’t hear you, we must be losing signal. _

Sansa snorted and closed the thread, returning to Theon’s email. The endings were always the same, but warmed her heart.

  
  
_ Love you so much, sorry for the wait - Harras. _ She didn’t even mind the name the end, knowing the safety it brought him. She curled on the sofa, Lady’s head resting on her knees and began to type quickly on her phone.

> _Harras, _
> 
>   
_ Wait till you hear about what Arya and her maybe-husband are up to now. _

  
She didn’t get far in her email before Robb burst into her living room, the cold air flying in behind him. Lady howled at him, her ears perking up.

  
“Sansa, I’m in love,” he said as he kicked his boots off and flung himself onto the loveseat. She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. Robb was usually in love, Sansa had learned early on. First it had been Jeyne Westerling, all honey brown curls and big eyes, but they’d broken up after Theon had disappeared. After her was Talisa Maegyr, who had caught his eyes in Volantis, but eventually they’d drifted apart as well. Then came every other girl Robb was in love with over the last five years. If he asked her, Sansa would’ve told him it was his one major fault. Lady tilted her head up at her, as though to agree with her inner thoughts.

  
“Margaery Tyrell is an angel, Sansa. She’s funny, and clever. She laughs at my jokes too, even though they’re terrible. And she’s beautiful! The most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, she’d rival the Old Gods, y’know,” he whined, turning to look at her. Sansa shoved down the urge to laugh, Theon’s last email popping into her head.

>   
_Margaery spends like, three hours every day facetiming with him, and he calls her dearheart. I’m going to vomit if they get much cuter._

  
“If you’re going to write love songs, you can’t do it on my couch,” she told him and he rolled his eyes.

  
“She wants me to come visit! Says she wants me to officially meet all of her friends as her boyfriend, Sans! I’m her boyfriend, can you imagine? Robb Stark, Margaery Tyrell’s boyfriend,” Robb said it so dreamily, Sansa was amazed he didn’t float directly into the sky. “You should come! You seemed to really like Dorne.”

  
“Robb, I can’t just leave. I have work to do,” she said and he waggled his eyebrows.

  
“Or was it someone in Dorne? I saw that motorcycle Sansa. We talked about it, c’mon. Who was that?” She pressed a hand against her forehead and prayed that a headache wouldn’t be brought on by Robb’s nagging into her secret love life.

  
“No one, Robb. Just a one night stand, I’m an adult, I can do that.” He pouted for a moment, but then sat up and hung his hand between his knees, watching her.

  
“Marg says she has a friend you’d like.” Sansa hummed quietly, looking down at Lady and running her hand through her fur. “She says he’s single, and pretty funny. He doesn’t get out much though, she thinks someone broke his heart and he’s never quite recovered.”

  
“That’s unfortunate,” she replied, finally looking back to him. “Robb, my favourite older brother-”

  
“I’m your only older brother,” he said.

  
“My favourite older brother, have you considered I’m happy with how my life is?”

  
“Yeah but, don’t you want to be in love?” he asked, and the soft look on his face made her smile.

  
“I have been, I don’t think I need to be again.”

  
“That was a long time ago, it’s okay to move on,” Robb said. “You guys are always reminding me of that.” Theon’s name hung unsaid between them, and Sansa sighed. If she was going to keep lying to Robb, she might as well make him happy in some small way.

  
“Alright, what’s this friend’s name?”

  
“Harras, which is a dumb name it sounds like harrass, but he’s apparently a really good guy. Oberyn and Willas are super tight with him, guess they’re like the three stooges or whatever,” Robb started, and Sansa did her best not to laugh, instead smiling brightly. Theon was going to love this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We back with more fluff and no plot before we get plot heavy in the next few chapters here. Thanks for sticking around so far. I feel a bit like it's lagging but oh well!!


	10. Strangely So Off Topic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this, a POV from Robb with plot? 
> 
> Mentions of panic attacks.

Robb hated planes. He hated anything that moved him away from his safety circle of Winterfell, outside of the bubble he had carefully constructed to keep everyone in one spot. When Arya had taken off to Braavos in a flurry of anger at the world and a determination to be more than just a Stark, Robb had plucked out most of one of his eyebrows before his therapist talked him out of his own head. After Bran had announced his plans to go to Qarth for college, Robb had managed to rip all the skin off his cuticles.

  
Going back to Dorne without anyone was like driving a nail through his stomach, and he dug his nails into the armrests. He focused on his breathing, and the way his neck cracked if he moved it just right. Margaery was waiting for him in Sunspear, he reminded himself. She had been so excited when he’d suggested the visit, her squeal had almost caused him to drop his phone. He had tried to no avail to convince Sansa to come with him, to return to a warmer climate and to meet new people. When they were children, Sansa had always whined about the cold of the North, wanting so desperately to go south. Now, she was the one who thrived in the bitterness of it all, a sad story always carried behind her focused eyes. The last few months had been better for both of them though, Robb reasoned. She laughed more often, appeared to more band practices, and joked easily with their friends. She spent more time with Wylla and Beth, and Robb noticed she was wearing brighter colours again, dresses he hadn’t seen in years making a reappearance in her daily wear.

  
He felt lighter himself, with Margaery in his life. She was like a sunbeam breaking through miserable clouds for the first time in years. The way she laughed when he spoke, and how she described her family and friends made something in his heart swell. Margaery was full of love for the people in her life, and Robb was drawn to it. Jon had often told him he loved too intensely, that he put too much stock in keeping people so close. Margaery thought it was sweet, she had said. She loved the fact he was so close to his family, especially after everything. When he had whispered to her about Theon one night, his phone resting on the pillow beside him, and his words disappearing into the darkness of his room, Margaery had listened quietly, gentle reassurances that she was still there as Robb dug into bitter memories.

««««

_“I just miss him, and it’s like everyone moved on without me. I feel so alone, you know?” _ _  
_

  
_ “You’re not alone though, Robb.” _

  
_ “I guess not.” _

  
_ “Missing people gets different, doesn’t it?” _

  
_ “It’s always different, missing Theon. It’s different from missing you.” _

  
_ “You have me still, though. They didn’t mean to move on without you, everyone hurts differently.” _

_  
_ _ “I think I love you.” _

_ “Love me, or love the idea of me?” _

  
_ “Can’t it be both?” _

  
_ “No.” _

  
_ “You.” _

  
_ “Good. I love you too.”_

««««

  
Robb replayed the moment in his head, Margaery’s laugh at the end a grounding noise that he clung to. The plane ride was almost over, and he was almost done with the worst part of his journey. He knew in reality Dorne wasn’t a place he associated any bad memories with. Sure, Sansa had scared him for a bit, but she had shown back up, alive and well with a smile on her face. He screwed his eyes shut as the plane landed, and counted his footsteps as he left the airport, shifting his duffle bag awkwardly as he searched for Margaery’s long hair.

  
“Robb!” He heard her before he saw her, dropping his bag as she threw her arms around his neck in a hug. He buried his face in her hair for a moment before pulling back and grinning at her.

  
“Well, hello there,” he said and she kissed him quickly, before untangling herself from him and grabbing his hand. They walked in comfortable silence, Margaery’s warm hand a reassuring weight Robb committed to memory. As she drove him to her apartment she talked quickly, explaining her main annoyance of the day.

  
“Everyone is around to meet you officially as my boyfriend, you know? And Harras just up and takes off! Willas said he had some sort of meltdown at Oberyn’s a couple nights ago and said he was going to go to Tor for awhile. I guess it’s fine because he’s got a bunch of vacation days saved up at the aquarium, and Willas actually needed someone to go to Tor to do some research on some sort of fish but seriously? He couldn’t of just waited? It’s so rude!” she was talking quickly, and Robb nodded, trying to keep up with her.

  
“It’s like, boom! Someone’s coming to meet us and he just loses his mind. Doesn’t want to meet you. Harras is a lot of things, but unfriendly isn’t usually one of them. He never shuts up, he’s always got something he needs to say everyone has to know his stupid opinions.”

  
“I’m sorry, Margy,” he said and she sighed.

  
“I just really wanted you two to meet. I know you’re going to get along great with Willas and Loras, and Garlan and Leonette are going to be here, but I think you and Harras would really get along.”

  
“Oh?”

  
“Yeah,” Margaery said as she pulled into her parking spot and turned to him, a look he couldn’t quite decipher on her face, “you’re both lonely, like you’re looking for someone.”

  
“Margaery-”

  
“Not lonely in a bad way, Robb. The two of you have both been through a lot, and lost people you love. I don’t think Harras really knows how to talk about losing his parents, and you miss Theon. I think you guys would be good for each other, if only to know the loneliness.” Her face was gentle now, and Robb sighed before reaching over to grab her hand.

  
“I’m sure when we meet we’ll be fast friends.” She nodded and lead him inside, shifting the conversation to something about her brothers and how all their relationships worked. Robb tried to keep up, Margaery had fewer siblings than he did, but they all seemed to be attached to people, which just doubled them all. He wandered around her apartment as she spoke, taking in the pictures on the wall he’d only seen through his phone screen. One in particular caught his eye, and he stopped to stare at it.

  
It was a group photo of Margaery with her brothers, two other women, and two other men. One of the men was dark skinned and haired, his arm thrown around the paler one and his mouth open wide, saying something to him. The other man’s eyes were wrinkled in laughter, his hair sticking up in every direction, and the colour was all wrong but Robb knew the way the mouth opened, even disguised with a beard. He walked to another picture that featured the same group of people, this time they were all looking at the camera, and the man’s easy smile pulled up on the left side, his teeth bright and his eyes dancing. More a nd more pictures of the same face taunted him, and the room felt too small around him.

  
“Hey Marg? Who’s in these pictures?” he called out and she popped out from the kitchen, a puzzled look on her face.

  
“Which ones?” He pointed to the one in front of him now, a picture of her brother and the two men who always seemed to be attached to him. She crossed the room and looked at it for a second.

  
“That’s Willas, Oberyn, and Harras,” she said, pointing at each man as she said their names. Robb stared at the man she called Harras, digging his nail into his skin as Theon’s face stared back at him. “Robb?”

  
“He just looks familiar,” Robb forced out, turning to look at her. “He’s the one who took off, right?” Margaery nodded, her early annoyance crossing her face.

  
“It’s so weird. I told him you were coming down to visit and he started acting super weird, and then he just takes off after telling Oberyn he couldn’t handle meeting new people right now, it’s ridiculous. Harras has never been scared of anyone, ever. He pissed off some girl a couple months and somehow managed to convince her to go home with him. If there’s one thing Harras isn’t, it’s scared of people.”

  
“What?” Robb asked, focusing on keeping his voice steady. Margaery kept talking, so Robb was either doing a good job of it, or she wasn’t paying close attention.

  
“Oh, the night we met. He pissed off a girl at the concert, Willas told me and then pretended he was sick and took her home when he saw her again at the bar. Which, honestly? Kind of weird for him, as long as I’ve known him he’s only ever dated Oberyn and Willas but whatever. Maybe she reminded him of someone back home? But I don’t think there’s that many redheads on the Iron Islands.”

  
“Iron Islands?”

  
“Oh, yeah. He’s from the Iron Islands, moved here after his parents died. He’s never gone back though - wait. What’s the sudden interest in Harras?” Margaery paused and glanced over at him. Thinking on his feet was never one of Robb’s strong suits, he left quick lies to Sansa and bluntness to Arya, often times too startled to get anything other than a stressed noise out of his mouth. It’s why Rickon talked the most in interviews, he just got his words out faster.

  
“You wanted us to be friends right? I just want to know about him, is all. I feel like I know everyone else already,” Robb said quickly and she tilted her head. Margaery’s eyes darted across his face for a moment before she smiled.

  
“And here I am just whining about him. I promise he’s really a nice guy, okay?”

  
“Yeah, I believe you. Maybe he’s just stressed about something.”

  
“Maybe, it’s hard to tell. Harras is a really private person.” Robb nodded, but looked at the picture again. Harras might be a private person, but Theon never was. Harras might not be a runner that Margaery knew of, but Theon was, no matter how much Robb loved and missed him. Theon ran from his problems, and always had. Robb tried to ignore the anger curling his gut, Theon's smiling face looking back at him from the frame. 

  
_Theon, what did you get yourself into?_

The next few days passed in blurs for Robb, Margaery’s friends and family overwhelming him with excitement and trips around Sunspear. He also discovered that Margaery’s parents live in Highgarden, and rarely came to Sunspear except for special occasions, and Margaery assured him it wasn’t that they didn’t want to meet him but they had a lot to do back at home. He promised her he wasn’t offended and that he understood, but in reality he was relieved. Her brother Loras made offhand comments he didn’t seem to think Robb heard, even mentioning to Margaery she loved to pick ones that had rocks between their heads, but he didn’t mind. Margaery had snapped at him, and defended Robb, but he was secretly grateful for it. Most people thought Robb was stupid, he’d discovered his freshman year of college. At first it had annoyed him, but then he’d learned to use it to his advantage. People invited him places, and picked him randomly for group projects and he found he liked it that way. Playing it stupid for Margaery’s group also meant he could absorb information about Harras easier, people carelessly answering his questions with eyerolls and laughter.

  
Harras worked at the aquarium, he had a degree in oceanography, with a minor in marine focused biology. He had lived on the Iron Islands his entire life, and was the only member of his family still alive. His older brothers had died in a boating accident, Oberyn had told him around a cigarette, and his parents in a car crash. Willas said that Harras was loud and cocky, and that he hated the smell of burnt cinnamon. Robb tried to line all of this up with Theon, and the pieces fit around his life rather than into it. Oberyn and Willas seemed to talk to him on the phone every so often, worried looks on their faces when they did. 

It all came to a head one night when they were out at the same bar Robb had met Margaery in, and a man approached her at the bar. Robb sat back easily, watching them without too much worry until he saw her shoulders tense and her nose crinkle. He slid out of the booth and headed to stand with her.

  
“Are you sure about that?” the man asked, shoving something towards her. Margaery shoved it back and Robb slid an arm around her waist, giving her a worried look.

  
“I told you when you showed me the first three pictures, I don’t know. That picture is my friend Harras, but I don’t know the girl and I don’t know the guy in those. Why do you care so much?” she answered, and Robb leaned down to look at picture she’d pushed away. It was of the person Robb was thoroughly convinced was Theon now, with a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm talking to a redhead that was facing away from the camera. He shoved down the anxious noise that tried to escape from his throat and stared at the picture, recognizing Sansa’s hair anywhere, how could he not?

  
How could he not know the look on his best friend’s face when he smiled at his little sister? The man started to say something again, but Margaery snapped at him.

  
“No, I think you should get lost.” He threw his hands up in defeat and snatched the picture off the bar before stalking off.

  
“What was that about, babe?” Robb asked, staring at the way her mouth twitched. The panic clawing at his chest could wait, he had to be calm for once in his entire stressed out life.

  
“I have no idea, he just showed up and asked me if I knew Harras, started showing me all these pictures. Said he was his family from Harlaw, but Harras doesn’t have any family, especially not on Harlaw.”

  
_ No, _ Robb thought, _ but Theon does. _

  
It was their last night together, but Robb couldn’t shake the fear that was suddenly gripping his heart, the picture of Sansa and Theon appearing every time he closed his eyes. Margaery snored softly beside him, curled into a ball under the blankets, and Robb sat staring at his phone, Sansa’s location staring back up at him. She was at home, the phone told him. She had been at their parents’ before that, and had gone a few places that Robb resisted searching if only because he didn’t want to spy on her too much. He switched to Rickon’s contact, his location still locked into their parents’ house, where it had been the last four hours. All his siblings were in their normal spots, his parents both at home.

  
“Robb,” Margaery said his name softly, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, “tell me what’s wrong, please?”

  
“I feel like I’m seeing ghosts,” he whispered and she let out a soft sigh and kissed his neck.

  
“Ghosts are only real if you let them be, Robb. Come to sleep.” And Robb found he couldn’t deny her any longer, locking his phone and curling around her, burying his face in her neck, ignoring the way his stomach was still in knots. 

Leaving the next day felt like a kick in the throat, but Margaery had kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand when he had headed for his plane.

>   
_ Robb: What was the name of the guy you slept with in Dorne? _  
  
_ Sansa: ?? That’s really not your business, Robb. _  
  
_ Robb: Please? _  
  
_ Sansa: I’m not telling you. Why do you keep bringing this up? _ _  
_  
_Robb: Fine. Forget it. It’s fine._

Robb stared down at his phone, Sansa typing and stopping for a few minutes before she just stopped altogether. He didn’t know how to ask her if Theon was alive, and even though he was certain of it, a nagging voice in his head reminded him that he saw Theon everywhere he went, it was no use upsetting Sansa too.

««««

  
The week after returning home, Robb felt the anxiety set further in, if he wasn’t answering emails or running too far and too fast he was glued to his phone, staring at everyone’s location and probably sending way too many texts as the weeks went on. Margaery and his parents didn’t seem to mind, but Arya threatened to cut Robb’s fingers off if he texted her one more time before nine in the morning in Braavos. Rickon had put him on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and Bran had sent him a text that simply had said Robb couldn’t control events that had already been put into play. Sansa tried her best to be patient with him, but finally snapped at him one night when he showed up to her apartment in the middle of the night, hair sweat stuck to his head and his eyes wild. 

He’d been out running, music blaring in his ears when he’d seen someone following him. His face was so familiar, Robb had seen him running over the last couple of weeks. He hadn’t paid much attention attention to him until now, until he looked up and saw him pointing a camera at him. Something about his face made Robb panicked, alerted his inner warning bells, he couldn’t place it, didn’t know why it seared into his mind. When he’d made eye contact with him, the man’s pointed face paled, and he’d turned and walked away, shoving a camera into his bag. Robb had turned and taken off after him, his legs pushing him faster than he’d gone before when his feet hit the ground wrong, and he tumbled, the pavement tearing into his knees and the man was soon out of his sight. 

“Robb, it’s 12:30, this is ridiculous. What is going with you? Why are you bleeding?” she hissed as he shoved into her apartment and he shook his head.

  
“Someone was following me, Sansa. He was taking pictures of me,” he said quickly, his chest heaving, and her face softened. The look she gave him reminded him of their mother, the way her eyebrows would raise after one of them had a bad dream and begged to crawl into bed with them. He crumbled down on her loveseat and she sat down beside him, pushing his hair off his forehead.

  
Her voice was gentle when she spoke, and he tried to focus on the way it sounded. “Are you sure it wasn’t someone for their Twitter, or something?”

  
“He ran when he saw me. I’ve seen him around too, he’s been on my route for the last two weeks, ever since I came back from visiting Margaery.” Her lips pursed and she squinted at him.

  
“Someone’s been following you for two weeks and you didn’t tell anyone?”

  
“I figured he was just a new guy around the park. But he was taking pictures of me tonight Sansa, and I know him.”

  
“Know him? Who was it?”

  
“I don’t know,” she opened her mouth to say something but he kept going, “I don’t know why I know him, but I do. I know him, I know I do, Sansa. You have to believe me, please. Someone is following me, and it’s been going on since Dorne, and I thought I saw Theon at the concert, and then I thought I saw him in pictures at Margaery’s and I feel like I’m losing my mind. Tell me I’m not losing my mind, tell me he’s dead.”

  
“Robb,” she said, her voice cracking and her hand dropping from his hair, but he pressed on, getting louder as he went.

  
“Tell me Theon is dead.” She leaned back from him slightly, her eyes wide and lips parted. Robb pushed down the anger that was building in his gut as she looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

  
“You know he is,” she whispered and he shook his head.

  
“Say it. Say he’s dead, Sansa. Say it!” he head himself yelling, and felt his nails digging into the palms of his hands but it felt like he was watching the scene from outside his body, trying to connect the way fear flashed against Sansa’s face with the way shot up from the loveseat.

  
“I’m going to get the first-aid kid. We’ll clean up your knees, I’ll make you a cup of tea and you can sleep on the couch. But if you yell at me again, I’m kicking you out,” she snapped and turned, heading into the kitchen. Robb hung his head between his knees and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the roots. Everyone was lying to him, and he couldn’t figure out why. Sansa’s refusal to say it, to reassure him was the last straw, was the last thing he could take. He launched himself off the loveseat and stumbled out of the apartment, running down her stairs and away from her.

  
Robb ran, and he didn’t have an end in sight until he found himself at the train station, a ticket for the Bloody Gate grasped in his hand and his Uncle Brynden’s voice speaking to him calmly through his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're really ramping here y'all, getting closer and closer to everything coming to a head. 
> 
> This one took awhile to come out because honestly I circled back and realized I was missing something and it was this entire part of Robb's emotional state in the story. So, uh, here it is!


	11. Monday Doesn't Even Feel Like Monday Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back, baby! This time we're seeing Theon's breakdown on the side of Robb's visit. These boys a HOT ASS MESS, I love them.

“You missed a great time, Harras. Margaery’s decided to date a guy who’s definitely prettier than he is smart,” Loras said and Theon took another long drink of his beer. He’d only been back from Tor for a few hours, finally slinking back after Robb had left. Oberyn had convinced him to meet everyone for drinks and there was nothing more he wanted than to return back to his bed and curl under the covers with Smiler, but he’d been gone for two weeks, hiding away in an old shack on the beach he’d rented, just him and Smiler in the small room. He’d taken water samples and dove, letting the water pull him down as he worked, tempted to let it consume him completely. Sketching the fish he caught and released, tagging some of them gently to track their movements kept him busy when he could focus enough. He had drank too much, and yelled into the water, angry at himself for not being strong enough to face Robb, and angry that he couldn’t have. He’d cried into the sand after it all, the sharp grains digging into his face as he tried to justify hiding from Robb and his sister still. 

  
He had stayed until he couldn’t anymore, Oberyn and Willas’s worried phone calls begging him to come home. Willas sat next to him now as they drank, his hand a comforting weight on his thigh. 

  
“Robb’s not stupid,” Margaery said, throwing a peanut at her older brother. “He’s gentle, sensitive, you know, a real artist.” 

  
“A real loon, if you ask me,” Loras shot back, “I mean. Did you see how anxious and jumpy he was by the end of the week?” 

  
“He’s not traveled alone by himself before, he was anxious. Do you always have to be so judgemental?” 

  
“Margaery, you know no one will ever be good enough for you in Loras’s eyes,” Willas interrupted and his younger siblings both rolled their eyes. Theon said nothing, just looked into his beer trying to keep his cool. Robb had been here, had been so close. He’d been in Margaery’s house, had he noticed the pictures, did he notice? Did he know? The questions pressed on Theon as they all said their goodbyes and he started to walk home, the cigarette in his mouth clouding his eyes. 

  
“Harras, come back!” Willas called to him and he turned, walking back to his friend. “I’ll drive you home, it’s getting kind of chilly.” He nodded and followed him quietly, and leaned his head against the window as he ashed his cigarette. 

  
“What’s wrong?” he asked finally, and Theon groaned, stubbing the butt out in the empty cup next to him and looked over to Willas. 

  
“Nothing, nothing is wrong. I’ve told you guys I’m just tired.” 

  
“ What happened in Tor?” 

  
“Nothing happened in Tor, I left because I needed space. I felt suffocated, I needed a break,” he said and it wasn’t a lie, not really. The guilt pressed on his chest, knowing that he had ran from Robb, again. That he would probably end up running from his friends here, if Robb and Margaery carried on. Where would that leave him, maybe in Essos? Far away from everyone and everything he knew, in the end though. Willas pulled into his driveway and stared at him for a moment before turning off the car. 

  
“Thanks for the ride, I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” Theon mumbled, getting out but Willas got out too, following him into the house. “You don’t need to come inside.” 

  
Willas tilted his head at him, his eyebrows drawn together and eyes worried. Theon hated seeing him like this, but there wasn’t anything he could say to him, couldn’t tell him the real reason for his avoidance. “I think I do. You need somebody.” Willas spoke softly, and Theon swallowed and nodded, and they went inside quietly. He followed him into the kitchen, and leaned against the wall, watching as Theon puttered around and put down dog food. 

  
“You miss you friends on the Islands, don’t you?” The question made Theon turn, a baffled look on his face. “Your friends, in the pictures. You don’t talk about them, ever. Or your family. It’s okay to be lonely, Harras.” Theon glanced at the pictures on his fridge, the ones he stood and stared at sometimes when the longing got to be too much. The bonfire picture that had broken down Sansa’s walls earlier, the picture of he and Yara breaking up from the waves at the beach, small and unaware of the world. A picture of his mom holding him as a baby, her long nose and red gold hair gifts she’d given him. There was even a picture of his entire family on his dad’s birthday, it was blurry and you couldn’t make out anyone’s faces but Yara had insisted she be allowed to take it, that she was old enough to use the camera now. 

  
“How can I be lonely when I’ve got you guys?” he said instead and Willas shook his head, and held out an arm to him. Theon crossed the kitchen and fell into him, burying his face in his neck. Willas smelled like pine trees and clean water, his skin was warm against his face. He wrapped his arms around him tightly and Willas ran a hand down his back. 

  
“It’s a loneliness in your bones, isn’t it? Kind of like a chill you can’t escape?” he whispered, and he nodded against him. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Theon’s face buried in his neck and Willas rubbing comforting circles on his back, settling on his scar over his clothes. They had that in common, scars they hid under their clothes. 

  
“ Everything hurts and I can’t explain it,” he muttered into his neck and Willas sighed softly, the agreement in the small noise comforting him somewhat. After a few minutes of silence, Willas spoke again. 

  
“The world isn’t meant to be carried in fear on your back you know.” Theon pulled away from him, his face twisted into a frown. 

  
“The only thing I’m carrying is my own stupidity. You staying?” 

  
“If you don’t mind. And you’re not stupid Harras,” Willas shot back and he shrugged. 

  
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. I’m nowhere near as smart as you,” he said, the conversation carrying them down the hall and into his room. He kicked off his jeans and crawled into bed, his friend following close behind. Theon handed him down a pillow and Willas propped it under his knee, looking over to him. 

  
“You’re a lot braver than I am, though.” Theon raised his eyebrows, the low glow of the fairy lights casting shadows on Willas’s face. “You chose to move on, instead of living in misery back home. That’s brave.” 

  
“If you only you knew,” Theon told him, and pressed his face into a pillow, mourning the loss of the ocean crashes in Tor to lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, I've returned after a lot of editing, whining, and bitching. I've done so much editing to this story and trying to grow and tell a better one and at this point I'm just out here wilding. Also, I just really liked the idea of Willas being soft and loving his friends a lot. I think he would, and I think he would worry more about Theon/Harras's sudden taking off than Oberyn would overall. 
> 
> My beta: are you SURE this isn't a Theobb fic? 
> 
> Me: NOT ENTIRELY AT THIS POINT. 
> 
> Don't worry - things are starting to speed up now.


	12. Hell's Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR: Ramsay, this chapter is exclusively from his POV. There's a riot, some death, and we see the return of an old face. 
> 
> We're actually reaching plot here.

Ramsay grinned at the chaos around him, the riot sending the cafeteria into madness. He would miss his cellmate, Reek, but killing him was a necessary means to an end. As the other prisoners ran and screamed at the guards around them, he slunk against the wall, creeping behind one of the younger guards who was charging into the riot.    


  
He grabbed him by the collar and twisted his neck quickly, feeling the young man’s head roll in his hands. The chef nodded to him and Ramsay dragged the body behind the line, stripping him quickly and changing into his clothes. He didn’t have much time to put his plan into action, and he had to move fast. He strode quickly back out into the riot and out of the cafeteria, breaking into a run. He ran past the other guards, until he reached the locked exit doors. The chaos the riot had caused left the doors open, just as he hoped. He slid the dead guard’s keycard through and grinned as the door swung open.    
  


There were more guards rushing past him, and one paused as Ramsay walked by him.    


  
“Thom, where are you going? We have to back up the others!” he called to him and he turned.    


  
“Captain sent me to go check out the camera room, footage is getting lost,” he said casually and the man nodded and took off to join his coworkers. He let out a low breath and snuck out the door of the prison, grinning widely, at the waiting transport vehicle. He climbed into the passage side and looked over to the man driving.    


  
“Lothar, good to see you. How goes the crew?” 

“Excited to see you again, Boss. You’ve been gone too long,” he told him and Ramsay grinned as they pulled away from Long Barrow Prison.    


  
“Now, tell me about this informant you have, your messages were incredibly vague,” Ramsay said when they reached the warehouse in Winterfell, walking through his old stomping grounds.    


  
“Sorry, the vagueness was my fault.” A man with a hooked nose and dark hair stepped out from the shadows, a sly grin on his face. “Didn’t want anyone figuring out my meanings who wasn’t supposed to.”    


  
“And who are you supposed to be?”    


  
“Bronn Blackwell, retired FBI. Heard you were looking for Theon Greyjoy, and offering a pretty penny for him. I can give you Theon Greyjoy and more,” he said and Ramsay raised his eyebrows.    


  
“Ah, yes. The message about Dorne, is that where you all hid him away?” Bron nodded, and Ramsay tilted his head, taking in the older man.    


  
“What made you decide to help us, besides the pay?” Bronn laughed a little and Ramsay raised his eyebrows. A few screams filled the silence and Bronn shrugged.    


  
“I don’t fancy ending up like my former coworkers, what can I say? I like being alive, and having my pockets fat.”    


  
“A fair thought, Mr.Blackwell, now tell me. How familiar are you with your former partner Jamie Lannister?”    


  
“I could tell you where he shits, if you’d like.” 

“No need for that, just find him and deliver a message for me,” Ramsay said and Bronn nodded, listening closely as he spoke. With that sorted and a new name on his side, Ramsay turned to take in the warehouse and plan his next move. 

Ramsay Bolton was a free man, and his next piece of work was to find Sansa Stark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We updating and we updating fast, we out here with Ramsay now. Can you feel the pressure? It's coming, oh man. (๑ʘ∆ʘ๑)


	13. Where He Found You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Ramsay being a creepy piece of shit.

Sansa frowned down at her phone again, the last four texts she’d sent to Robb left on read. Their Uncle Brynden had assured all of them that Robb was safe at the Bloody Gate and that he was taking care of him. Robb wouldn’t answer her calls, and Uncle Brynden had told her to just be patient, that he would be ready to talk again soon. It made sense that Robb had ran to their uncle, it’s where their mom had sent him shortly after Theon’s death for a month or two when he hadn’t spoken for over a week. The guilt gnawed at her stomach, and she pulled up her email thread with Theon, staring at the last email she’d sent him. She hadn’t been able to convince herself to tell him what had happened, that Robb was certain he was alive and had a small breakdown. She didn’t want him to worry, didn’t want to risk him showing up in search of Robb. It wouldn’t do anything to make him worry, she had decided. Not for the first time that day, she wished that Lady was waiting for her back at home instead of staying with her parents. She decided what she really needed was some fresh lemon bars and pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store and headed inside, pushing her cart around lazily. 

Someone bumped into her and she scooted to the other side of the aisle, staring down at her phone, answering the string of texts from Wylla and Jenye, a few from Smalljon and Jory when she saw the man who’d bumped into her cross the aisle again. She headed down the aisle and away from him, but his muddy brown hair kept appearing in the corner of her eye. 

Sansa turned the corner in the store, heading down the baking aisle when she saw the figure again, and she paused. She wondered if they just happened to be heading down the same aisles, but her thoughts drifted back to Robb, and how he had insisted that someone was following him. He headed towards her, a slimy grin on his face that made her skin crawl. She gripped her cart tighter, debating on whether she should launch it at him and run or not.    


  
“You must be Sansa,” he said, his blue eyes limp and fishlike. She said nothing but he kept talking. “You see, we share a friend in common.”    


  
“Sorry, but I don’t think we do,” she said firmly, pushing her cart forward, but he grabbed the end of it, and she took a step back.    


  
“Oh, but we do, sweet Sansa. Theon Greyjoy ring any bells?” he asked, and his identity dawned on her. Ramsay Bolton was standing in front of her in the grocery store, walking closer to her as she stood rooted to the ground in fear.    


  
“Theon passed away five years ago, actually,” she snapped, drawing herself up to her full height and looking him in the eyes. Ramsay might be terrifying and dangerous, but she wasn’t going to give him any indications that Theon was alive and well.    


  
“Now now, we both know that’s not exactly true, is it?”    


  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ramsay growled at her lowly, but she held her ground, pushing down the panic rising in her gut.    


  
“Pretend all you want, Stark but I know the truth. And you’ll give me Greyjoy, and then maybe we can even have our own fun, wouldn’t that be neat?” Ramsay said, stepping into her space and grabbing her arm.    


  
“Have a good day, Ramsay,” she shot out, wrenching her arm away, and turned quickly, pushing her cart quickly away from him. An older woman at the end of the aisle was watching them, and she stepped in beside her.    


  
“Sorry to bother you,” she said quickly, but the woman smiled warmly at her and started talking quickly.    


  
“It’s so nice to see you, sweetheart! Here, walk with me while we catch up, it’s been far too long. How are your parents?” Quieter, she leaned in to her, “Do you want me to call someone for you?”    


  
“No, thank you,” Sansa whispered back, but the woman stayed with her the rest of her quick trip through the store, chatting warmly beside her. She even walked her back to her car, and Sansa gave her a quick hug. The woman waved her off and she headed back to her apartment, pushing the speed limit, her skin still crawling from the meeting. She debated what she should do with the information of Ramsay Bolton approaching her, and decided on texting Rickon, asking him to come over. She didn’t feel safe alone in the apartment, not with Lady staying with her parents while her plumbing was being replaced. He sent her three smiling cat emojis, two praying hands, a man with a beard, and a peace sign emoji, which she took to mean he was on his way. The fear over her heart lifted some to know a friendly face would be there when she got home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could all this be in one chapter? Probably. Is it? No, this is my process. We gotta pump out these written parts so I stop picking apart the story and post it. I'm a big kid, I can do it. 
> 
> We're coming up on longer chapters here soon. 
> 
> Please tell me if y'all like it.


	14. The Flayed Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING OF: 
> 
> \- Violence, we've got our first fight scene here. It's not pretty, at all. There's blood, skull cracking, breaking of tables, attempted murder, and kidnapping. 
> 
> Rickon finally makes his POV appearance and I meant it when I said I accidentally made him a memelord.

Rickon stepped into Sansa's opened front door, calling out her name. 

"Sans! Seriously, don't fucking text me to come over if you're not home yet. You hate it when I snoop and sometimes I can't control myse-" the words caught in his throat as he closed the door behind him and turned to see three men tearing his oldest sister's apartment to shreds. "Who the fuck are you?" he spat, pulling himself up and reaching for his phone. Two of the men looked at each other, and then back at him. 

"Boss said no witnesses," one of them said, and the other nodded, charging across the room at him. Rickon ducked to the left quickly just as the man reached him, and stumbled a bit. The man groaned and turned back towards him a look of annoyance on his face. Rickon hadn't been in a lot of real fights, sparring with his brother and cousin and the rest of the band didn't count, not really. He turned and raced down Sansa's hall towards the bathroom, when another of the men shot towards him and knocked him over.

He groaned as the wind left him and rolled away from him, stumbling back up. 

"Alright, alright, yeah fuck it," he muttered and charged at the man who'd just tackled him, knocking him to the ground with a loud thud. He reached his arm back and landed a heavy punch to the guy's jaw, before the third man was pulling him off and grabbing him by the throat. The man shoved him against the wall, pushing on his windpipe, and he reared his knee forward, grinning as he made contact with his crotch. He dropped his throat, yelling loudly and Rickon shot a jab to nose, trying not to flinch at the sound of cracking bone, the stinging in his fist and the blood that started to pour of the guy's nose. Before he had too much time to reveal his victory, the first man was knocking him over again, and slammed his face into the glass coffee table. He let out a small scream as it shattered and the glass forced its way into his skin. 

"Fucking kill him, Flint," one of the guys said, and the one holding Rickon's head laughed. 

"Nah, we came to get a Stark, and we have one. Don't we Cub?" He teased, dragging him up and grinning wickedly at him. Rickon blinked a few times, his vision blurry. 

"Get fucked," he mumbled, and the man slammed his head into the wall, and Rickon heard the crack his skull made echo in his ears, and the man let him drop.

_Dad's gonna be so pissed_, was his final thought as the room spun and went black around him.

**««««**

The drive back to her apartment was slow and stressful, but eventually she was home, and bounding up the stairs, her groceries clanking together.

“Seriously, Rickon?” Sansa groaned as she turned the landing to see her apartment sitting wide open. Everywhere her little brother went, he seemed to leave a disaster, if only by simply existing in the space. When she got to her door, the groceries she’d been holding fell to the ground loudly, and she gasped.    


  
“Rickon?” she called out quietly, but no answer came. She dug her phone out of her pocket and scrolled to Jon’s number, pressing call as she took in the state of her home. She held the ringing phone up to her ear, stepping around her broken coffee table, holding back tears at the blood on it.    


  
“Sansa?” a rough voice came through her voice.    


  
“Jon, something happened to my apartment,” she said after a beat, and she heard him grumble something, and she realized she’d woken him up. 

“Whadda mean somethin’ happened?” he asked, and she turned to look at her wall, and let out a small cry. 

A large red X was spray painted onto the wall with crudely painted man hanging upside on it, written above it was ‘ _ A naked man has few secrets; a flayed man, none.’  _   


  
“Jon, the Flayed Men were in my apartment,” she whispered, terror gripping her heart. Ramsay Bolton’s gang was terrifying enough to read about on the internet, or hear her father discuss what they could do to try to bring down their crime spree, somehow still going strong even with him in prison, but they had been in her home. Torn it apart and left blood everywhere and Rickon - “Oh gods, Rickon! Jon, Rickon was supposed to come over.” She could hear the panic grabbing her voice and she ran through her apartment, yelling his name. Jon was saying something to her, but she couldn’t hear him, too busy tearing across the rooms looking for him.    


  
“SANSA,” he yelled and she came to a stop, her chest heaving, and her face wet with tears. “Was Rickon there? Are you  _ sure _ ?”    


  
“He texted me, he would've only been a couple of minutes away. Jon, there’s blood everywhere,” she cried.    


  
“I’m on my way. Don’t do anything stupid, just stay put. I’ll be there in five,” he said and she must’ve agreed, because the call ended and the only sound in the apartment was her crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Rickon! Poor Sansa! Poor Robb! Arya and Bran are obviously fine. Jon is going to save the day, or... something? WHO KNOWS, FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON DRAGON BALL Z. 
> 
> Please let me know how this is going, I've been sitting on this for too long and my beta might've murdered me if I kept editing.


	15. History Snapping At Our Heels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Sansa's in crisis, Theon's past has finally caught up with him.
> 
> Warnings: Graphic description of violence, removed body parts, and murder. We finally learn everything Theon saw that fateful night.

"Harras, someone from Winterfell sent you a package." Oberyn announced, strolling into the lab. Willas and he looked up from the turtle they were currently cleaning and Willas sighed. 

"You can't just burst into the lab whenever you want, Oberyn. We're working," he said and Obyern grinned at him, plopping down in the chair next to him. 

"Yeah, we've got a sick turtle here. Don't be disrespectful of our children," Theon chided, pulling his hands out of the water and taking off his gloves. He pushed down the sudden surge of anxiety that was bubbling in him about the package. Sansa wouldn't send him a package. He hadn't ordered anything either, and avoided buying anything online from the North anyways. Oberyn tossed him the package, and Theon hissed at the cold contact of it. 

"Why's it cold?" 

"You ordered it, dude."

"I really didn't, but whatever. Hand me those scissors, yeah?" 

"Wait, Harass. Don't just open things you didn't order!" Willas said and Theon rolled his eyes. Oberyn handed him the scissors and he sliced the tape on the box, the flaps opening. On top was a picture of Sansa, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking at something over her shoulder. His mouth went dry and he moved it away quickly, a picture of Robb soaring through a trail underneath it, and he felt his heart start to hammer in his chest. Willas said something to Oberyn, but he shushed him and they leaned closer to him. Under that picture was one of both of them, and Theon recognised it as the morning he'd taken her to the hotel. They stood looking at each other, Theon with his motorcycle helmet under his arm, and Sansa's face bright with a smile. 

"Jesus, fuck  _ no _ ," he hissed and Oberyn grabbed his wrist before he could lift up the picture. 

"Harras, who is that?" he asked, looking at him, concern written on his face. 

"An old friend," and he snatched his wrist back, throwing the photos onto the desk behind him. 

A single hand looked back up at him from the box, and Theon held back the urge to throw up. There was dried blood under it, and he could see a piece of bone sticking out. The fingers were curled slightly up, and a ring was on the thumb. A note was pinned to the palm, red splotches around the black ink.

_ We know. _

"Harras, buddy," Oberyn said sounding alarmed as Theon stared at the hand, "just a quick question. Who's fucking hand is that?" 

"I feel like the more important question here is why did someone send you a  _ hand _ ?" Willas added on. Theon stared at the hand longer, bringing the box closer to his face while he looked at the ring. He knew that ring, he realized, and used the scissors to turn it slightly. A roaring lion stared back at him. 

"Jamie." 

"What?" 

"Who?" 

"Jamie Lannister. He's an FBI agent. It's his hand," he told them, finally looking up at his friends. Oberyn's face was twisted in disgust, and Willas was paler than normal, one of his hands twisted into the sleeve of Oberyn's shirt.

They looked at each other, and back at him. 

"Why do you know an FBI agent?" Willas asked and Theon knew his mistake instantly. 

"Why would someone send you an FBI agent's hand, I think is the more pressing thing to know," Oberyn said and Theon flinched. There were only a couple options now, and all of them were bad. Oberyn and Willas would know if he lied to them, but the truth would drive them away.

_ For the best, if it drives them away. Keep them alive, keep them safe. Like you kept Robb and Sansa safe until you fucked it up. _

"It's a long story," he said and closed the box, setting it on the floor. They looked at him expectedly and he leaned back into his chair, running his fingers through his hair. 

"Basically, I'm not... My name isn't Harras Sand. It's Theon Greyjoy." The name his mom gave him rolled off his tongue awkwardly, not used to forming those words anymore, but he felt something in his heart unclench slightly, a pain he hadn't noticed he had.

"Harras-" Willas started, but Oberyn shushed him, his eyes narrowing at Theon. Theon felt his shoulders drop, but kept going. 

"When I was 24, I saw a cop get murdered by this guy, his name’s Ramsay Bolton. He was a crime lord in the North, but no one could ever pin anything on him, it was this huge scandal. I went out to buy some pot and ended up at this warehouse, where," Theon's voice caught in his throat, his mind flashed back to the day where he saw Officer Torwynd die. 

_ "C'mon Karstark, I don't think Bolton's here. We should get back to the station before Sarge notices we're gone."  _

_ "Torwynd, this would be the biggest collar of your career, push you up the ranks, Rookie! Don't you want that?" Theon slid down to the floor behind the shipping container, willing himself to breathe quieter. Ramsay Bolton was bad news, and everyone knew it. Theon had lived it first hand when Rodrick and Maron had been alive. What the fuck had Dagmer been thinking, asking him to meet on Ramsay's turf? While the two cops talked about their next move, Theon heard footsteps across the warehouse. He poked his head out slightly from around the corner of the container, biting his tongue to keep from yelling. Ramsay Bolton stood in front of the two men, an evil grin on his face.  _

_ "Karstark, you brought a friend!" his voice was cheery, and grating, nails on a chalkboard and Theon winced.  _

_ "A friend who knows too much," Karstark replied and Torwynd's arm went to his side, but before he could unsheathe his gun, Ramsay shot forward, a knife dragging quickly across the young man's throat. He fell to the ground with a loud thud, blood spilling out of the gash onto the concrete, and Karstark and Ramsay laughed, before launching into a conversation about moving his body. Theon didn't know when he started running, but he didn't stop until someone tackled him to the ground three blocks away. _

"HARRAS," Oberyn yelled, snapping his fingers in front of his face and Theon blinked quickly, reality pulling him back.

"Sorry, I was remembering," Theon said and Willas nodded softly, reaching out and squeezing his hand. Oberyn pulled on his wrist, but Willas swatted him with his free hand, a quick argument playing out between them on their faces. 

"I saw Ramsay Bolton kill this young cop. And I got picked up by these two FBI agents, Jamie Lannister and Bronn Blackwell. They convinced me to testify, and told me they would send me into Witness Protection, told me it was the safest way to keep my sister and my friends safe." 

"You have a sister?" Willas asked, and he nodded. 

"Her name's Yara. She's my better half, literally. Raised me when our dad was too busy getting drunk. She took care of me when Dad died. She didn't deserve-" Theon's voice caught in his throat, thinking about Yara and her harsh laughs, how her bony hands would grip his in the middle of the night when they’d shove themselves into her closet.. "She didn't deserve for me to abandon her." Willas made a sympathetic noise and Oberyn mumbled something. 

"Anyways, I uh. I let them kill Theon. I became Harras Sand because it was what made sense at the time, I guess? I knew they wouldn't just let me go back into my life, and it seemed like the only way to keep everyone safe. Yara deserved that much from me, so did Robb and Sansa." 

"And who are they?" Oberyn's voice was heavy, and guilt stung in Theon's eyes. 

"Robb and Sansa Stark. I grew up with them. Sansa's the girl in the pictures. She was, is? Was, my childhood sweetheart." 

"Wait, Robb Stark? Margaery's Robb Stark? Is that why you took off to Tor?" Willas asked, his eyebrows drawing together, worry written all over him. Theon nodded, the fear in chest keeping his words from forming properly.

"That photo looks a little more recent than childhood sweethearts,  _ Theon _ ." His name sounded wrong in Oberyn's voice and Willas glared at him. 

"Oberyn, can I talk to you please?" He stood up from his chair, and dragged Oberyn into the corner of the lab, bracing himself on the wall. Theon watched them go back and forth for a few minutes, suddenly feeling more tired than he could remember feeling in a long time.

"He's our FRIEND, Oberyn!" He heard Willas yell, and Theon stared over at the corner. In the five years he'd known Willas, he'd never heard him even raise his voice. Oberyn seemed just as surprised, leaning back from him. "He's our friend, it doesn't change just because we didn't know something, get a grip!" Oberyn said something he couldn't quite hear, but Willas came back over to him, looking exhausted and his leg stiff from the conversation and standing. 

"I'm sorry," the words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them and Willas shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. 

"Nothing to be sorry for, not yet. You haven't hurt anyone, Harras. Or, do you want to be called Theon?" It was a gentle question, but it caught him off guard. Willas's soft brown eyes were searching his face for something, and Theon bit at the side of his thumb. 

"You can call me Theon or Harras," he said finally and Willas nodded. Oberyn sighed from across the room and walked back over to them, sitting down next to Willas and staring at him. 

"So, the Starks?" he asked and Theon smiled weakly. 

"You've met Sansa, the night we saw Direwolves." 

"Oh!" Theon could see Willas connect the dots in his head, and Oberyn caught up with him quickly, a softer look on his face. 

"I didn't want to hurt them. I just wanted to keep them safe. Fucked that up,” he said.    


  
“Hey, you didn’t know there’d be creepy dudes taking pictures of you guys,” Oberyn said, his voice closer to normal. It wasn’t in Oberyn’s nature to stay angry with his friends too long, and for that Theon was grateful.    


  
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have done a lot after that. I shouldn’t have kept in contact with her, but I just-”    


  
“You’ve been keeping in contact? Isn’t that against Witness Protection 101?” Willas said and Theon shrugged, but Oberyn nodded like he understood everything in the shrug. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the cut off hand weighing heavily on them.    


  
“Well,” Oberyn said after a long while, “you better call your girl, Har- Theon. If they found you, they’ll be after her next, right?” Willas agreed and Theon knew they were right. Before he had a chance to even unlock his phone though, Sansa’s number started to ring through. The three men looked at each other surprised, but Theon answered it, putting it on speaker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to create a hostile environment for Theon between Oberyn and Willas, so I think Oberyn's angry reaction is more just surprise. This probably goes a lot smoother than it really would, but every incredibly angry scene I wrote for these three felt wrong. 
> 
> Things are getting really off the rails now, eh?


	16. Keeping Quiet Through The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Jon arrives with the cavalry to help Sansa, Theon makes a decision.

Sansa looked at her phone again, scrolling down and hovering over Theon’s phone number. She hadn’t called him before, they talked through email, and skyped sometimes, the number was just for emergencies. If Ramsay Bolton snatching Rickon wasn’t an emergency, she wasn’t sure what was. She slid down against the wall, and hit call. The phone rang for a just a moment before he answered.

“Sans, what’s-” he started, but she cut him off, her voice hysterical even to her own ears.

  
“They took Rickon, they took him Theon,” she babbled.

  
“What, Sansa, calm down. Who took him?”

  
“The Flayed Men. They were in my apartment, Theon. It’s wrecked, and they took Rickon because I wasn’t home,” she was crying harder now, the ruins of her home around her.

  
“I’m on my way, hold tight. I’ll be there soon.”

  
“What, no! Stay there. Jon’s on his way over, I just wanted-,” she didn’t finish her sentence, not entirely sure what she had wanted to accomplish with the call other than to hear his voice.

  
“No, I’m coming up. It’s me they want, right?” Theon’s voice sounded forgein to her, a quiet rage in it. “I’ll be there soon. Wait for Jon, love you.” He hung up before she could get another word in and she dropped her phone onto the floor, her entire body shaking. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, it couldn’t have been longer than a few minutes because Jon was bursting into the room and dropping to the floor beside her.

  
“Sans,” he said quietly and she looked over at him, his grey eyes dark with worry, “are you hurt?” She shook her head, and he nodded, sticking out his hands and pulling her from the floor. She clung to him while they walked around the apartment, Jon taking in the mess.

  
“Jon, do you think-”

  
“He’s fine, Sansa. If he wasn’t, they would’ve left him here,” Jon said and she dug her nails into his arm.

  
“That’s not very reassuring,” she grumbled and he sighed. She watched as he dug his phone out of his pocket, dialing and holding it up to his ear.

  
“Uncle Benjen, yeah, it’s Jon. No, everything isn’t okay, can you send a unit out to Sansa’s? No, now,” Jon snapped, and Sansa resisted the urge to snatch the phone out of his hand and beg their uncle to find Rickon. “Yeah, see you soon.” Jon looked back to her and pulled her into his chest, running a reassuring hand down her back.

  
“Sansa,” he said softly, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore him, “why would the Flayed Men be here?”

  
“I don’t know,” she lied, trying to keep her voice steady. She’d gotten pretty decent at lying to everyone, but Jon could usually see through her. He said nothing, but she held her breath anyways, willing him to believe her.

  
“Alright, yeah,” he said finally and she pulled away from him and headed to the couch, dropping down onto it silently. Jon walked around the apartment some more, making a few more phone calls that she couldn’t focus on. “Ned is coming to get you, he’ll be here soon. Uncle Benjen should be here any second,” Jon crossed the room and crouched down in front of her, “Sansa. Is there anything you need to tell me?” She bit her lip, Ramsay Bolton’s evil grin from earlier pulling at her. This was Jon, her cousin, the closest person to her besides Arya, who was now so far away.

“Ramsay Bolton,” she said quietly and he looked at her puzzled, “he grabbed me in the grocery store-”

  
“That’s not possible, he’s in prison.” Sansa laughed harshly, glaring at him.

  
“Yeah, yeah. I know it’s not possible, but he was there and he _ grabbed _ me, Jon. He said,” her voice caught and she shuddered. “I didn’t understand what he meant. He was ranting about me helping him find someone.” It wasn’t a lie, not really. Jon stroked his beard and nodded.

  
“Hey, it’s fine. Listen, he’s not gonna touch you, okay? And we’re gonna find Rickon. Everyone is going to be okay,” Jon said and she laughed again, panic threatening to overflow. Before Jon could say anything else, her phone started ringing. He raised a finger to his lips, and she nodded as he crossed the room and answered it, walking back to her, the call on speaker.  
  


“Hello?” she said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear and glancing at Jon. 

“Hello sweet Sansa,” the voice said and her blood ran cold. “We didn’t get much time to chat at the grocery store today did we? No matter, because I have something that belongs to you.”

  
“Get off me, you son of a bitch-” Rickon’s voice cut through, but before he could say anything else, he went silent.

  
“Give him back,” Sansa heard herself say, trying to hold back the tears that were already spilling.

  
“You have three choices here, so you know. You can trade yourself for your baby brother, let him die,” she let out a sharp breath and he paused to chuckle. “Well you don’t have to do that one. Your final option is give me the snitch. You know what I mean, Sansa. See you soon,” he said and the line went dead. Jon raised his eyebrows and she swallowed.

  
“Jon-”

  
“No, listen. You’re going to Ned’s. You’re going to stay inside and stay safe. I’m going to go get Rickon. No one is going to die, do you understand me?”

  
“Jon, you have to listen to me-”  
  


“This isn’t an argument, Sansa!” he yelled and she flinched, any want to tell him about Theon vanishing from her. She sat silently, clutching her phone as people started flooding into her apartment. She couldn’t focus on the questions Benjen was asking her, just shaking her head while he spoke quietly to her.

  
“Sansa,” Ned swept into her apartment, his security team trailing behind him and he was kneeling in front of her. “Sweetling, are you hurt?” She shook her head and he reached over and squeezed her hand.

  
“Daddy, they took Rickon. I’m so sorry-”

  
“It’s not your fault, Sansa,” Ned interrupted her and she bit her tongue. No one seemed to want to listen to her, and the feeling of dread in her gut only grew. He said something to Benjen about getting Arya and Bran home, and her uncle was nodding along, typing on his phone quickly as he gave instructions to the men around him.

  
“I packed you a bag, Sans,” Jon said, a duffle bag flopping down beside her and she shook her head.

“No, I’m not hiding. Rickon needs me,” she stood up and Ned sighed.

  
“Sweetling, there’s nothing you can do,” he said and she opened her mouth but he cut her off. “What’s best for Rickon is you coming home, Robb, Bran and Arya too. You all need to be safe, that’s what we can do for Rickon right now. Do you understand?” His voice was soft, but firm and Sansa felt her shoulders slump. Jon whispered something to him she couldn’t hear and then gave her shoulder a quick squeeze before slipping out of the apartment. Ned wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the car, talking lowly to the man walking closest to him. Once they were tucked in the backseat and heading back to her childhood home, the exhaustion of the last hour started to overtake her.

  
“Daddy,” she mumbled, her head on the window, “Jon’ll get Rickon, right?”

  
“Nothing is going to happen to him, Sansa,” he said, but his words were distorted to her as sleep claimed her.

**««««**

  
“Can you guys take care of Smiler for me?” Theon asked as he ran around the lab gathering up his stuff and Oberyn stood up to cross the room to him, clasping a hand on his shoulder.

  
“We’re coming with you, dude.” Oberyn told him and he shook his head.

  
“No, you guys stay here. It’s safer, I can’t drag anyone else into this, I’ve made things bad enough,” he said and Oberyn rolled his eyes. Theon didn’t want his friends risking their lives for his own stupid mistake, it was his own fault Rickon was missing now, and by the Drowned God, he couldn’t seem to stop ruining Rickon’s life, could he?

  
“Okay, but consider this,” Willas said, “you run up there alone. You get grabbed by this Ramsay Bolton guy, then you and Rickon _ both _ die. I don’t know Sansa, but I fail to see how that would make her happy, Theon.” Theon groaned loudly, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

  
“Ramsay won’t kill Rickon if he gets me. Probably not, I don’t know. Either way, I can’t leave Rickon up there alone, I’ve already fucked that kid’s life up enough.” Willas and Oberyn looked at each other, a conversation playing out between the two of them.

  
“Well, it’s not really an option, we’re coming with you.” Oberyn said finally and Theon sighed. There would be no way he got out of Sunspear without either of them noticing, and it would be nice to have company on the road.

  
“Fine.”

  
“I have a question, though,” Willas said, standing up and grabbing his cane. “What do we do with this hand?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon's also kind of ramping up as a character. Theon is willfully walking into a trap... what a dolt.


	17. Faster Than A Hairpin Trigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, Rickon comes face to face with the truth.
> 
> TW: 
> 
> \- Blood and injuries
> 
> \- Mentions of Ramsay finding Sansa attractive

Rickon dragged himself towards the door of the dirty room, the dim light bulb flickering above him. Ramsay had thrown him in here after he’d called Sansa and threatened her, an evil smile on his face the entire time. Sansa had sounded so scared and small, and Rickon had earned a swift kick in the stomach when he’d charged the man.    


  
The blood had dried on his face, and he wanted a washcloth, or at least a bottle of water to try to wipe it off but he settled for scrubbing his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt instead.    


  
“Okay, Rickon. Think, why would they be trying to grab Sansa?” he muttered to himself, pulling his hair up as he cracked his neck. If Arya was here, she’d tease him for how long his hair had gotten and ask if he was trying to copy Robb and Jon. If Arya was here, they’d already be on their way out of this mess, her kicking and punching her way to freedom and him trailing behind. Arya was in Braavos though, and Rickon was on his own. He got down onto his stomach and pressed his ear against the crack of the door, listening for anything. There were footsteps, and words that were too muffled to make out clearly. He didn’t know how long he laid there, his eyes screwed shut and focusing on whatever noises he could hear from outside the room, but eventually his patience was rewarded.    


  
His eyes flew open and he focused on the black combat boots he could see through the crack. There were two sets of them, and they were facing each other.    


  
“What’s the boss even want with this kid?” The voice was unfamiliar and rough, and sounded like it smoked a pack a day.    


  
“Kid’s a Stark, the youngest of their litter. Boss figures that he can bend the DA’s arm with a hostage,” Rickon recognized that voice from Sansa’s apartment, one of the men had called him Flint.    


  
“Yeah, but why a Stark? Wouldn’t any hostage do?” Pack-a-Day asked.   


  
“Nope, has to be a Stark,” Flint told him and Rickon held his breath, trying to figure out why it mattered, “the way Boss sees it, if that Greyjoy punk can be found, one of these Starks knows where. Apparently, they were inseparable. He wanted the oldest girl, y’know the redhead, cause supposedly her and Greyjoy are childhood sweethearts.” Rickon’s mind raced at this new information, mostly clinging to the name that he’d said. 

_ Greyjoy _ . 

He couldn’t have meant Theon, could he? Could Theon really be alive? 

  
  
“Oh, so the DA gives Boss Greyjoy, and we give them whichever Stark we plucked, makes sense.” 

  
  
“Yeah, or the girl gives us the snitch,” Flint agreed, “but she’ll probably be here before we know it, begging us to let her baby brother go.” 

“How are we sure that she knows where he is?”    


“Boss has been havin’ her followed, guy snapped a right pretty picture of the two of them. Problem is, the guy vanished after sending him the picture, so all he knows is that she knows he’s alive.” 

“How unfortunate for her,” Pack-a-Day clucked his tongue and Flint laughed.    


  
“Not for the Boss though, he’s kinda got a thing for her. Not that I blame him, the legs on that one,” he whistled, and Rickon bit his tongue, resisting the urge to yell and demand an apology for Sansa. They switched their conversation to something about a card game and Rickon scooted away from the door and tucked himself into the corner, running it all through his head.    


  
Theon was alive, okay, he could work with that information. If Sansa knew he was alive, it meant that he was alive somewhere other than Winterfell or the North because Robb would know and Robb would’ve told the entire world. A picture of the two of them? It didn’t make any sense, unless, Rickon suddenly had a thought.    


  
The mystery man in Dorne, who’d brought Sansa to the hotel. The way Sansa had smiled at the man, then how sad she’d looked the ride home, never speaking expect to whisper an occasional piece of advice to him while he was texting Lyanna. If that was true, it meant Sansa’s easy happiness and jokes recently had come from him as well. He bit at the side of his thumb, thinking over all of it as he waited.    


  
All Rickon could do was wait, he realized. Wait until someone showed up to rescue him, or until Ramsay got anxious and bored enough to kill him. All Rickon had was time, and it wasn’t his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, Rickon. Whatcha gonna do?


	18. Poor Boys and Pilgrims

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon faces Ramsay, Jon reaches out to some old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for: 
> 
> Violence
> 
> Slight Gore

Oberyn and Willas snored in the bed beside him, and Theon stared at his phone, the chill of the North seeping into his bones.    


  
_ Unknown Number: The Cub waits for rescue. Trade yourself and make an example of those who cross the Flayed Men. Come to where it all started. _

  
The light blue glow of his phone bore into him, and the words taunted him. He wanted to wake his friends up, and beg them to go with him, but he knew it was selfish. There was no sense in getting them killed along aside himself. Theon knew for the first time in his life, it was time to brave, and be brave on his own. Standing up, he redressed quickly and started for the door, almost out of the hotel room when something bumped his leg. Smiler whined at him, and Theon could’ve sworn he was crying.    


  
“Hey buddy,” he whispered, crouching down and scratching him behind the ears. “I’m gonna miss you, a lot. You’ll live with Oberyn and Willas, or maybe Sansa. You be good for them, okay?” Smiler tilted his head, whined louder and he buried his face in the dog’s fur, breathing in heavily. After a few moments, he tore himself away and scratched his ears again.    


  
“Bye Smiler. Take care of them for me,” he said and slipped out the door, leaving Harras Sand behind him. He shot off a quick confirmation to the unknown number and headed down the stairs and out of the hotel, his heart heavy in his chest as he began to walk the streets of Winterfell, the familiar buildings looming over him. Coffee shops and restaurants that he recognized and some that he didn’t. The streetlights guided him down a path he’d gone so many times, a left here, then straight for awhile and a right, then a few more twists and turns down alleys and streets, until he came into the shipping district. The moon shone brightly down on the water, and Theon took a deep breath, taking in the Bay of Ice quietly. Water always comforted him, no matter where it was, or the temperature of it. Yara used to tell him that sea dragons still lived deep in the waters here, traveling between here, the Iron Islands and the Sunset Sea. She would whisper to him about Nagga, and how her bones decorated Old Wyk, and promised to take him there to see them. Now, Theon wondered if his bones would lay in the depths of the sea with his ancestors who went chasing sea dragons and krakens. 

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he sent off a quick text to Sansa, just to say good-bye, and apologize to her. He stared at the screen for a few minutes, and when no answer came, tucked it under an abandoned crate near where he stood. If he managed to get out of the warehouse alive, maybe he could call for help, or maybe he could direct Rickon to the phone and he could. There were a lot of maybes in his plan, and only one thing for certain. He would have to finally face Ramsay Bolton.    


  
Theon forced himself to walk towards the warehouse, sweat dripping down his neck despite the cool air of the night. The door was cracked open, like it was five years ago, and Theon slipped in quietly, blinking rapidly as the bright lights came into view. His vision finally adjusted and he saw Ramsay standing in the middle of the room, smiling at him.    


  
“So, the snitch actually showed? What a surprise, after turning and running away from the people he claimed to love,” he taunted, walking towards him. He said nothing, just watched Ramsay carefully and the other men surrounding the room. By his count there were at least six of them, too many to fight, and Theon dug his nails into his palms.    


  
“What, nothing to say? He said you sang like a little songbird once they convinced you I was going to kill the Stark kids and your sister,” Ramsay continued, throwing something onto the floor. It rolled towards him, and he looked down to see the detached head of Cley looking back up at him. He blanched for a moment, bile rising his throat at the sight. An eye was gouged out, and Theon could see his jaw had been broken, his mouth hanging open limply, his once handsome face decaying. Cley had a wife and kids, Theon remembered, and liked to fish with his dad. Cley had always been kind to him during his adjustment period in Dorne, had always reminded him he had a friend if he needed one, and now his head was staring back up at him.    


  
“Let Rickon go, he’s got nothing to do with this,” Theon said finally, tearing his eyes off of Cley’s head and looking back at Ramsay. He laughed, a mean, hollow noise and shook his head.    


  
“See, here’s the issue. You dragged the Starks back into this once you couldn’t keep it in your pants and had to see your girlfriend again. Rickon isn’t going anywhere, and neither are you. In fact, I’m pretty sure your sweet Sansa will be joining us soon, she could never leave her baby brother to die.” Theon looked around the room again, trying to figure out if he could see Rickon anywhere, but there were no familiar faces and too many closed doors. Theon began to walk forward towards Rasmay again, but before he could get there, he felt a sharp jab in his neck, and the world swam around him. As he clasped to the floor, he could hear the words around him, but none of it made sense. Then he slept. 

**««««**

The wind flew through Jon’s hair as he raced through the streets of Winterfell, zipping between cars and onto the occasional sidewalk. After a useless night of looking for Rickon, he was on his way to Castle Black to recruit some help.

He shoved into the old bar and searched the room until he saw who he was looking for, mumbling hellos to the people who greeted him. Tormund stood tall, his red hair sticking up in every direction, laughing loudly at something Val had said to him. 

"Tormund!" he called, pushing back the rest of the Wildings to where their leader stood. Tormund turned and grinned widely at him, and brought him into a bear hug. 

"Jon Snow! It's been many moons since you've crossed our paths, old friend!" he said and Jon laughed despite himself, trying to force the panic down. It was better to approach this calmly, rather than with the anger that was bubbling in him. Val leaned over and hugged him after Tormund released him, saying something about Ygritte, but Jon couldn't properly focus on her words. 

"Tormund, I need to talk to you privately," he said quickly, and Tormund tilted his head, but nodded, motioning for Jon to follow him to the back room of the bar.

"Orell, Rattleshirt, watch the door!" he called out as he closed the door behind Jon and Val. Tormund's back office was small, a desk and chair shoved in one corner, and a couch against the wall. The walls were painted a forest green, crooked pictures of his family hanging all over the wall. A picture of Tormund and Val's wedding two summers ago hung over the couch, the two of them surrounded by family and people from the Wildings. Tormund whispered something to Val, before he turned and started pouring bourbon into some glasses.

"What's wrong King Crow?" she asked, putting a hand on his cheek and Jon leaned into her touch. Sansa's fear over the phone when she told him Rickon was missing, and the state of her apartment when he got there, blood everywhere, some of it probably his was still clawing at him and the safe touch calmed him some.

"Someone took Rickon," he said and she said his name softly. "They were trying to take Sansa, but Rickon was at her apartment, and they took him. It's the Flayed Men." 

"Bolton's gang?" Tormund said, hatred in his voice. Tormund had more cause than most to hate Ramsay Bolton, his youngest brother, Torwynd had been the young police office Bolton had killed. The Wildings and the Flayed Men had trouble brewing between them before that, but when Torwynd’s death happened, it had caused it all to explode. Jon had met Tormund during the worst of it, just a twenty three year old fresh out of Night Watch and without a purpose beside watching Robb wither away mourning Theon. Tormund had adopted him into the Wildings, given him something to focus on outside of Robb’s misery.    


  
Tormund crossed the room to them, handing Jon a glass. He threw back the bourbon and set it down. Jon nodded, and Val turned to look at Tormund, her hand falling from his face. Tormund handed her the drink and she took a careful sip, and Tormund looked to Jon. 

"Yeah, Bolton's gang. I did some digging, a friend from the Night Watch works for the DA's office and she said there was a prison break at Long Barrow, but they can’t seem to get the riot under control, so they don’t know who’s missing and who’s not." 

"What's Ramsay Bolton got against your family, Jon?" Val asked, and Jon shrugged, he truthy didn't know. Ned and Roose Bolton didn't get along at the best of times, their political stances too different but they'd never been enemies, as far as Jon knew. Their families stayed away from each other, Ramasy had never attended the same schools as Jon and his cousins, and none of them had ever ran with the same crowds, despite what some people whispered about his friendship with the Wildings. 

"How do you know they took Rickon?" Tormund asked. 

"They called Sansa," Jon said. "Told her she had three choices. Either she trades herself for Rickon-" 

"Bad idea," Tormund said and Jon nodded. 

"She could let Rickon die-" 

"Worse idea!" Val snapped, her arms crossed and fire in her eyes. 

"Or she could hand over the snitch, whatever the fuck that means." Jon finished and Tormund and Val exchanged glances. 

"The snitch?" she asked and Jon shrugged again. 

"Ros, my friend at the DA's, she said that Ramsay went away with the help of a secret witness, but Sansa wouldn't know anyone like that. She doesn't hang out with people like Bolton's crew. It makes no sense." 

"Sansa and the rest of your family at the house?" Tormund asked, and Jon nodded. "I'll send Cotter, Glendon, and Iron Emmett to do some drive arounds. Val?" 

"Mance Rayder doesn't work in narcotics and gang intelligence anymore, but he's Captain of Homicide now, he's got pull with both. I can get him to help me run a trace on that call, but I think that's probably what they want. Your Uncle is a smart man, he's definitely already gotten them involved, I wouldn't be surprised if every available officer wasn't already looking for Rickon, Jon," Val told him, and he nodded. 

"In the meantime, you and I will scour their stomping grounds, we can go where the police can't. We'll find him, Jon," Tormund said, putting his hands on his shoulders. "We'll find him."

A loud knock came on the door, and Rattleshirt's voice came through. 

"Hey, Boss? There's two dudes and a dog out here, claiming they know you, want your help." 

"Tell them I'm busy, Rattleshirt!" Tormund yelled back, and there was some shuffling and yelling outside the door, before it slammed open. 

"Sorry for Oberyn hitting your friend, Tormund," Jon turned and looked at the man who spoke. He was leaning on a cane and holding a happy looking dog under his arm. The man who must be Oberyn stumbled up behind him, shaking out his hand and muttering. Tormund laughed, his eyes lighting up at the reveal of his guests. 

"Willas! Oberyn! A long way from Dorne, aren't you?" he asked and Willas put down the dog, who hopped forward towards him. 

"We are, came to help a friend," Oberyn said, and Tormund nodded.

"Normally, I'd be down for helping fellow riders, but right now I'm busy. My buddy Jon's got a missing cousin." Willas's eyes went wide and he looked over to Oberyn. 

"Rickon Stark?" he asked and Jon narrowed his eyes at him. Two random men from Dorne stumbling into his friend's bar and telling him his missing cousin's name made all sorts of bells ring in his head.

"We don't have anything to do with him being taken," Oberyn said quickly, "but our friend is missing too. He rushed up here like a bat out of hell when Sansa called him, we barely were able to convince him to let us come." 

"And why would Sansa call  _ your friend _ when her baby brother is missing?" Jon heard the venom in his voice, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Willas and Oberyn looked between each other and then to him. 

"She didn't tell you?" Willas said carefully, and Jon felt like screaming. Every second they stood here were seconds Rickon didn't have. 

"Tell me  _ what _ ?" 

"We all have a friend in common, Jon," Oberyn said and Willas glanced at him, a troubled look on his face. The dog barked at his feet, standing on his hind legs and putting his front paws against him. Jon glanced down at the dog who panted happily. "Theon Greyjoy." 

Jon's entire mind went blank as he snapped his head back up to look at the two men.

"Jon?" Tormund said his name gently, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, before finally- 

"Theon Greyjoy’s been dead for five years," he snapped, trying to control the volume in his voice. 

"He's not dead. He's been living in Dorne," Willas said carefully and Jon shook his head. He'd been there the day they'd driven to Cape Kraken for Theon's sea burial. They'd watched from the shore as Yara and Robb rowed out on an old boat, Theon's body between them. He remembered how Sansa tucked herself into his side, burying her face in his shoulder and crying, her other hand clinging to Arya who said nothing, anger dancing in her eyes, and how Rickon had stood dangerously close to the edge, his fists clenched and eyes red from exhaustion. Bran had sat near him, whispering to his younger brother. They’d all watched quietly as Yara had rolled her little brother into the water.

Theon Greyjoy was dead. He repeated those words again, and Oberyn and Willas looked at each other. The dog as his feet yipped again. 

"We know it's complicated. And we know you don't trust us," Oberyn said, "but we're on the same side. Theon is  _ alive _ , and he came back to help find Rickon. We can prove it." He pulled his phone out and started to swipe through it, before handing it over. "Go through my pictures, tell me that's not him." 

Jon looked through the pictures, his mind racing. The man in them could definitely be Theon, just older and less scared looking. There was a sort of serenity about him in the photos, a calm notion that the Theon Jon knew never had.    


  
“It could be him, I guess,” Jon said finally, still not fully willing to believe that Theon was alive.    


  
“It is him,” Willas said and Jon scratched his beard, nothing about this made sense and his gut was telling him there was more to the story. Suddenly, he remembered his conversation with Sansa earlier. She had wanted to tell him something, had insisted he listen to her and he’d brushed her aside, had made her sit quietly like a little doll. Perhaps this is what she had wanted to tell him, that it had something to do with Theon.    


  
“Alright, say I bite and that Theon’s alive,” Jon said and Oberyn started to say something, but he cut him off, “why would Ramsay Bolton take Rickon, try to take Sansa, just to lure Theon back up here? Why not j ust go to Dorne and get him there?” Everyone in the room was quiet at this, until Val spoke.    


  
“Bolton’s proud. He needs to prove he’s back, and that no one can stop him. It’d be important to him to kill your friend in the North and to do it himself,” she said and Jon nodded his head.    


  
“He’ll want to be back in charge,” he agreed after a moment, “wants to prove he’s the top dog. Killing Theon in Dorne wouldn’t really yell ‘The Flayed Men are back’, would it?” Tormund grunted in agreement and Oberyn and Willas looked between each other.    


  
“Honestly,” Oberyn said, “we’d really prefer it if that didn’t happen. Theon came to help and got himself grabbed. Why hasn’t this Ramsay guy just let Rickon out somewhere on the road by now?” It was a good point, and one Jon had failed to consider. Robb or Sansa would’ve made more sense as a target, especially involving Theon. They’d taken Rickon from Sansa’s though, and Jon realized now the snitch that Bolton  had referred to on the phone was Theon, which meant Sansa knew more than he’d let her tell him. As far as keeping Rickon went, it didn’t make sense, unless they were planning on killing him.    


  
“Bolton’ll kill anyone in his way, that’s just a fact,” Tormund said heavily, and Jon said nothing, the world too heavy for him to think clearly. After a few moments of silence, he looked at Theon’s new friends.    


  
“You said he’s vanished, what do you mean?”    


  
“We woke up four hours ago, and he was just gone. No note, nothing. He left Smiler behind and I’m worried that he went after Bolton himself, the beautiful idiot,” Oberyn said, and Willas nodded. Jon huffed and scratched the back of his head.    


  
“Rickon’s been missing for around fifteen hours, Theon’s been missing for four. That means they could be together at this point,” Jon said and Tormund nodded.    


  
“Here’s the plan, Tormund and I will check out the Flayed Men’s old stomping grounds, we’ll report in to you, Willas, right?” Willas nodded and Jon kept going. “You’ll run communication here with Oberyn since you two don’t know the city. Val-”    


  
“Get with Mance, work with him and his boys,” she provided and he nodded.    


  
“I’m gonna call Ros back, get as much information on the Bolton case as possible, especially now that I know about Theon, he must be the missing piece she wouldn’t tell me about. Tormund, you ready to ride in fifteen?”    


  
“Aye, let’s hit the ground King Crow.” Jon clasped his shoulder and the group disbanded, Val leading Willas and Oberyn back into the main part of the bar, explaining something to them that Jon couldn’t process at the moment. Tormund was talking to his men, directing them out of the bar and Jon dialed Ros’s number, listening to the ringing that seemed to mock him. Eventually, it sent him to voicemail, a cheery tone saying she’d call him back as soon as she could and if it was an emergency to reach out to her boss. He hung up and pocketed his phone, knowing she probably had her hands full with other things and rejoined Tormund.    


  
“Looks like we’re riding now, couldn’t get ahold of Ros.” Tormund nodded and bumped his shoulder.    


  
“We’re gonna find both of them, Jon. We will. Now, tell me more about your friend Theon.” Jon smiled, and as they walked out of the bar, he launched into tales of his childhood, trying to ignore the rising feeling of doom in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's how this is going! As always, feedback is always appreciated. I know this chapter is kind of... jumpy, in a way. I originally had a lot of open ended plots in this that I ended up cutting out to revisit later. One of those is Jon's time in the military and his meeting with The Wildings, which I want to write at a later date. Basically, while Robb, Theon, and Sansa were in college, Jon had joined the military and was discharged shortly before Theon's 'death'.
> 
> Also, I messed with Westeros's geography and basically switched Winterfell and Deepwood Motte.


	19. Running On Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny POV from Sansa to keep the pace moving.
> 
> TW for slight gore and blood mention.

_ Harras: Went to get Rickon, tell everyone I’m sorry. Especially Yara. I am sorry, Sansa. Love you. _ Sansa stared at the text for a few minutes, her mouth moving as she read them over and over. The text was a few hours old, and Theon was probably long parted from his phone. 

_ Unknown Number: Hey Sansa, this is Willas. We came up here with Theon and he filled us in on a lot of stuff. We can’t find him, and we’re worried he took off, has he called you? _ Willas, Theon's friend, someone he loved and trusted. Someone who had ran up here with him to help perfect strangers, simply because they believed in the good of Theon and the people he loved. 

The third text was from Rickon, and held a picture that made Sansa want to pull her hair out or strangle someone. Maybe both. Rickon was passed out on a dirty floor, blood caked on his skull, his face blue and black and looking so small, her baby brother. 

_ Rickon: Your baby brother needs your help, Red Wolf. _ Sansa stood up and crossed the bathroom floor, fighting the window open. Her baby brother needed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sansa. Stop. Don't. Damn, she's so fast," Arya said lamely as she watched her sister sprinting through the front yard, Bran snickering behind her.


	20. A Sight For Sore Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for mentions of OD'ing.

Theon groaned, his head throbbing as he came back to reality. He struggled to sit up, blinking rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light of the musty room.   
  


“Holy shit.” The voice made him jump and he turned to see a figure sitting in the corner, a surprised look on his face. The other man looked exhausted, bruises forming all over, his hair pulled out of his dirty face, but Theon recognized his features.    
  


“Rickon?” he croaked out, his throat dry.    
  


“Theon?” Rickon said and he nodded, startled to see him there. If Rickon was still here then-   


  
“Is Sansa here?” he asked, trying to hold down his own panic. Rickon shook his head and scooted across the room to sit across from him. He stared at him long and hard, tilting his head as he looked at him. Theon returned his studying glance, catching up the chubby faced preteen to the young man in front of him.    


  
“Holy shit,” he repeated. “You’re alive. They weren’t kidding.” 

“It’s me, in the flesh,” Theon agreed. Rickon kicked out his legs and leaned against the wall, letting out a low whistle. They sat in silence for a moment, but then Rickon spoke again.    


  
“Sansa knows, I’m guessing? Or Robb?”    


  
“Sansa,” Theon confirmed. “Not on purpose though. When you guys were in Dorne, we kinda ran into each other. She called.”    


  
“That was like, two months ago dude. Sansa sucks at keeping secrets,” Rickon argued but Theon laughed slightly. Apparently, Sansa had gotten good enough at hiding things her family thought she was still terrible at it. “Huh, wild. So, you’re not dead. That’s fucking crazy.”    


  
“Yep, not dead. Just a fucking idiot, ruining everyone’s lives again.”    


  
“Bold of you to assume you have so much power, but go off I guess,” Rickon grinned, the cuts on his face stretching. The dried blood on his face made Theon nauseous, but he knew he didn’t look much better. His head was still throbbing, and his body ached, but Rickon looked a little worse for wear than he did, a nasty purple patch of skin welting under his eye.    


  
“So, my good dude,” Rickon said, cracking his knuckles. “What the fuck?” Theon stared at him blankly and Rickon rolled his eyes. “How’d you end up here? Why’d you come running up here if you knew you were in trouble?” Theon rolled his neck, and thought for a moment.    


  
“ Sansa was scared, you were in trouble. I couldn’t just cower down south while you guys dealt with my mess. It’s a matter of pride, I guess,” he confessed and Rickon smiled slightly.    


  
“Yeah, alright, makes sense. Gotta be a big dumb hero, the three of you were always like that.”   


  
“What?”    


  
“Yeah, you don’t remember? Robb and Jon would pretend to be knights, you’d pretend to be their pirate ally. Arya and Bran would kidnap me and Sansa, and we’d sit there and argue with them until the three of you would rescue us like three musketeers. Sansa would decide which of you was the most heroic and make them her hero of the day, or whatever,” Rickon laughed as he told the story, his eyes far away from their current situation.    


  
“I’d forgotten about that,” Theon admitted, “do you remember how mad Sansa used to get whenever Arya would ruin her little castles?”    


  
“She’d cry!” Rickon agreed, and Theon started to laugh along with him, the image of Sansa’s chubby cheeks stained with tears.   


  
“And you!” Theon said, “You used to get so mad whenever anyone told you that you were too small, you’d puff out your little chest and stand on your tiptoes, it was the funniest thing I’d ever seen the first time you did it. Robb told you were you too little to go sledding on the big hill, and you got on your toes and-”    


  
“Fell down the hill and broke my arm!” Rickon finished, and the familiar glint of laughter in Rickon’s eyes reminded him of Jon. “Mom was so mad at both you.”    


  
“She even grounded me,” Theon said, the memory forming more clearly. “Which thinking back is wild, she had no room to ground me.”    


  
“But she did.”    


  
“She did, and I actually listened to her,” Theon said quietly, thinking about how Catelyn and Ned had accepted him so easily into their gaggle of children, fussing over his grades and encouraging him in sports. He and Yara had formed an easy relationship with them, always welcome in their home. Silence fell over the two of them, memories swirling in Theon’s head. After awhile he looked back up at Rickon.

Rickon was staring at him again, and Theon couldn’t help but feel responsible for him being in Ramsay's clutches. He felt guilty for a lot of things, when it came to Rickon. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered and Rickon's forehead furrowed. 

"For what? It's not your fault that Ramsay's BEEN AN ASS AND LOCKED US IN HERE!" 

"Well, for that. And for what happened. You shouldn't have had to see that." Rickon's face softened, and Theon searched it for an answer. The silence hung between them for a moment until. 

"Fuck you." 

"What?" Theon was taken aback, but he knew he deserved it. 

"I spent  _ years _ in therapy getting over the image of you choking to death on your own vomit in our bathroom. I was twelve, dude. It was fucking horrifying, and the entire time everyone was yelling and crying, and I thought you were dead. But then you weren't. You weren't dead, and Dad was taking you to therapy, and you moved into the basement, and you were okay." Theon nodded, and Rickon kept going. 

"For an entire four years you were sober too, and then boom. You fucking died, but for real that time. Robb and Sansa might as well have crawled into that river with you. Sansa got better first, you know? Arya dragged her kicking and screaming to therapy but for the longest time, she blamed herself. Thought she should've been able to love the addiction out of you or some bullshit." 

"Rickon, that's not-"

"Shut up and listen. You started this, and neither of us have any place to be right now. Robb dropped out of school, ran off to the Bloody Gate, and he wrote all those fucking miserable songs, because he was miserable. He was sure it was his fault, that he didn't pay enough attention to you, that he focused too much on dating and goofing off. And then we did the album, and he started to get better. He started smiling and joking again, and my family was back. But you were still dead." 

"I wish I could've stayed dead for you guys," Theon said it bitterly, and Rickon threw one of the loose rocks on the floor at him. 

"You're a fucking drama queen. But watching them like that, for the first year? Was the worst, and you know what? The entire time they were like that I blamed myself. It felt like it was my fault. If I had found you sooner the night you OD'd the first time, maybe all the money and time Dad spent getting you better wouldn't have been wasted. Or maybe if I hadn't yelled so loud and just let you die, they wouldn't have been so hurt. And that's a fucking bonkers thing for a seventeen year old to carry around. So fuck you." Rickon finished, and the fire in his grey eyes reminded him of forged steel. Theon didn't know what to say, just looked down at the ground between his feet. 

"But, you're not actually dead. And you didn't run off because you relapsed or because you fucked up. You did it to protect them, even though Dad probably could've. Although, look where we are right now. Maybe you did the right thing, letting us think you were dead, instead of just ran off. That might've hurt them more. But seriously, fuck you for overdosing in the bathroom, fuck you for making Robb and Sansa cry, a lot. And fuck you for thinking that you have some sort of duty to carry the world on your shoulders. We're Starks. The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. So get back in the fucking pack, Theon."

"I mean, it's not like I had a lot of choices, and I'm not a fucking seer." Theon said suddenly, and Rickon raised his eyebrows. "Say I'd stayed, told Lannister and Blackwater to go fuck themselves, and Ramsay found out I saw what happened. Maybe he just kills me. Maybe he kills Sansa and Robb. Maybe he kills  _ Yara _ , who no offense Rickon, is my entire family in one person." Rickon nodded, and Theon sat up a little straighter. 

"Do I take that chance? Or do I take the chance that if I vanish, no one will know it was me who spoke up, and then I keep people safe. It wasn't a fucking easy decision to make. And I'm sorry that I fucked everyone up. I'm pretty good at that." Rickon echoed his earlier statement of drama queen, but Theon was on a roll. 

"I'm not sorry for making what I think the right choice was. But I am sorry for everything else. And I'm sorry..." 

"For?"

"For you being so goddamn mouthy." Theon threw the rock back at him, and Rickon broke out into a huge smile. He would never understand this kid, he realized, but Rickon wasn't a kid anymore either. He'd become an adult in the time Theon was gone and he was a little sad he hadn't been around to see it, especially after taking part of his childhood. 

"I'm glad you're back, either way." 

"Even if we die down here?" 

"If we die down here, I'm going to fucking kill you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the show and GRRM aren't going to bother to give Rickon a personality, it's my right to make him a memelord who 100% has a tiktok account. 
> 
> Writing this story has been a really interesting exploration into what sort of relationship Theon and Rickon might have, and the kind of person Rickon might be in general. 
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear what you guys think!


	21. You've Got Blood On Your Hands and I Know It's Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains content that might not be suitable for all readers, such as violence, blood, language, gore, mentions of rape and sexual assault, and Ramsay Snow. Please be advised.

Rickon paced the small room, stopping every so often to look at the door. They’d taken Theon out of the room earlier, but Rickon couldn’t be sure for how long he’d been gone. Loud screams echoed in the building for awhile, but it had been silent for the last few minutes. He was trying everything he could to keep the panic from settling in, from letting the idea neither of them were getting out alive dig into him. He didn’t know what sort of game Ramsay Bolton was playing with them, but common sense told him the longer they sat and waited for someone to rescue them, the dimmer their chances got.    


  
After another three turns of the room, the door swung open, and Theon was tossed back inside, two bottles of water and an apple following him.   


  
“Great fucking hospitality! A five star experience on Yelp!” he yelled as the door slammed shut and he sighed. Theon was laying on the floor, coughing loudly and Rickon walked over and crouched in front of him. His face was bloodied from his time outside, and there was a long cut on his face that Rickon was pretty sure was infected. There were tears in his shirt, and small burn marks around the new holes.    


  
“Theon,” he started but the other man shook his head.    


  
“Nothing the old man didn’t pull, I’m fine,” he mumbled out, pushing himself up off the floor. He wobbled slightly as he found his footing, whispering to himself softly. Theon didn’t say anything more, just leaned against the wall and stared ahead blankly. Rickon had never met Theon’s dad, but had heard enough about him from eavesdropping on his parents and Robb’s frequent anger towards him to know he wasn’t exaggerating. He picked up the water bottles and the apple, before turning back to him.    


  
“Hey dude, let’s clean off your face. You’re looking uglier than normal,” Rickon said trying to keep his voice level. Fear wouldn’t help either of them right now, and he’d spent enough time talking to Osha about his panic and uncertainty about his own decisions to know that one of them had to stay calm. He wouldn’t leave that responsibility to Theon right now, the state he was in. He shook his head, and slid down the wall, ignoring Rickon’s request. He sat down in front of him, staring at him quietly.    


  
“Seriously, you’re gonna get sick. If you’re weak we can’t get out of here. We gotta figure out how to get out, Theon.”    


  
“Get out?” Theon’s voice was raspy, and he finally looked Rickon in the eyes, and he tried not to flinch as he took in the extent of Theon’s injuries. The cut was bad enough, but his lip was busted and swollen and Rickon could see that Theon was now missing a tooth. There were small cuts along his forehead and he could smell the burnt skin on his arms. “How the fuck do you think we’re getting out of this, Rickon? Bolton’s gonna torture me, then kill me. Then he’s gonna kill you and he’s gonna send our heads to your parents in boxes. We’re not getting out of this.” Rickon stared at him for a few moments, then reached out and pinched him. Theon let out a startled yell and glared at him.    


  
“Okay Greyjoy,” Rickon said, “let’s get one thing fucking straight. I am not dying in here before I get a chance to ask Lyanna Mormont to marry me. You are not dying in here while my sister is the happiest she’s been in a long time. Neither of are fucking dying in here, and we are going to get out of this. Now wash your face, because we’ve got plans to make.” Theon’s forehead creased while he listened to him, a look of astonishment on his face.    


  
“Yeah, alright, what do you propose though?” Theon asked and Rickon shrugged. He hadn’t thought that hard about it, but as far as he figured only two men only ever came to get Theon from the room they were in. If they played it right in a surprise attack, surely they could take two men down and make a run for it. He handed Theon a water bottle, and bit into one side of the apple, thinking quietly. Water splashed on the floor as Theon scrubbed at his face, small hisses escaping him every so often as he wiped away the blood. Rickon ate half the apple and handed the rest to him wordlessly, still debating the best way to get the guards to come all the way in.    


  
“What if I say you’re sick?” Rickon said finally, and Theon raised an eyebrow. “You know, when they come to get one of us. We need to lure them in, I say you’re sick they’ll come in and look, right?”    


  
“Or just leave me to die.”    


  
“Fair. Well, we could both pretend to sleep?”    


  
“That could work. Or, hey, wait. How big is the space behind the door?” Theon asked, turning to look at the corner. Rickon shrugged and looked at it.    


  
“I’unno, probably big enough to stand behind when it opens?” Theon stood up and crossed the small room, tucking himself into the corner. Rickon followed suit and he felt a wild grin come across his face.    


  
“I got it,” he said and Theon nodded his head.    


  
“One of us behind the door, the other one on the floor. Get them both in here,” Theon started.    


  
“The other one closes the door, we tackle them, get their weapons and the keys,” Rickon said excitedly, and Theon grinned at him.    


  
“I think we’re on our way out of this Rickon, if we play it right.” Rickon grinned at him and shoved himself in the corner by the door. The silence that overcame the room was comforting in a way, until Theon  spoke again.    


  
“Rickon, if the chance comes for you to leave me behind, do it.”    


  
“What? No, are you crazy-”    


  
“Seriously,” Theon cut him off, glaring up at him, “leave me. If you can get out, get out. My phone’s shoved under a crate right by the bay, about forty feet from the front door of this warehouse. Get it, and get away from here.”    


  
“I’m not gonna leave you behind, Theon, are you nuts?” Rickon hissed, staring at him. They were in this together, why couldn’t he just accept it? Things were different now, and Rickon wasn’t a scared kid crying in the bathroom anymore. The argument was cut short, however, by the door swinging open. 

**««««**

The warehouse was easy enough to find, but the fear that clung to Sansa made the door feel like it weighed a ton when she pushed it open. Ramsay had been waiting for her, the same predatory grin on his face from the grocery store. Sansa’s nails dug into her palms as she watched Ramsay circle her.    


  
“Sweet Sansa, it’s so nice of you to see sense. I can assure you our next stop will be much more welcoming than this dingy warehouse, but I had some business to attend to, I’m sure you understand,” he said, his voice grating her ears as he stepped directly in front of her and brought his face towards hers. Sansa jerked back with a sharp exhale, and he laughed at her as he pulled away.    


  
“It’s a shame you’ve come all this way, Sansa, it really is. You see, I’ve already killed your friend Theon, and I suppose my boys should be done with Rickon any second.” She didn’t say anything, just looked straight ahead. They weren’t dead, they couldn’t be. Sansa didn’t know Ramsay very well, but she was certain if they were he’d be taunting her with their bodies. He grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him, looking her in the eyes.    


  
“Didn’t you hear me?”    


  
“I heard you,” she spat out, trying to pull her away from him but he gripped her harder. The chaos around them was growing, men running this way and that, all yelling about leaving. “But I don’t believe you.” He looked at her, his empty eyes boring into her.    


  
“You’re right, I haven’t killed them yet. But I will, I’m going to flay that little snitch alive in front of you, take him apart bit by bit while he screams. Maybe I’ll send his fingers to his sister, do you think she’d like that? I’m going to cut his skin off and feed it to my dogs,” he snapped. “I’m going to break him completely, and turn him into a bitch. He won’t even know his own name. And little Rickon? Well, I think I’ll just shoot the little bastard, it would be kindest, wouldn't it? I’ll give him a chance to escape, I’m not an unfair man, but I doubt he could outrun me, San-” he cut off into a strangled yell as Sansa’s foot came down on his, hard. She pushed all her weight down on it, tearing her arm away and darting away from him quickly.    


  
“Fucking bitch!” he screamed, lunging for her as she ran towards the door. His arm grabbed hers and she pulled hard, knocking them both to the floor. Standing up she shot for the door again, but he grabbed her ankle and pulled her back down. She hit the ground with a scream, and kicked her leg back, her foot crushing into his face. A loud crack caused Ramsay to drop her and stumble back, cursing her. Before she could get far, another man grabbed her arm and held her so tight she thought her arm might break.    


  
“Let me go!” she yelled, pulling away from him, but the man just held her arm tighter. The scars on his face looked like burns and the look he gave her sent shivers down her spine.    


  
“I’d stop fighting if I were you, little bird,” he told her gruffly, shaking her a little. Ramsay struggled up from the ground, blood pouring from his nose and anger on his face.    


  
“I should break your neck,” he gasped, and Sansa bit her lip, the severity of all of this finally settling down on her. She was going to die here, with Rickon and Theon, she realized. A loud crash from outside caught Ramsay’s attention and he looked over towards two of the men who’d watched their fight.    


  
“We’ll check it out, Boss,” one said and they rushed out of the room, guns drawn. Another loud crash happened, and then a brick burst through one of the windows, landing by Sansa’s feet, missing her by barely an inch.    


  
“What is going on out there?” Ramsay hissed and headed towards where his men had ran out, only for one to almost knock him down as he rushed back in. He repeated the question and the man gasped for air before -    


  
“Wildings, the Wildings are out there, with one of the Stark kids.” Sansa instantly perked up at the mention of the Wildings, hope threatening to overflow when she realized Jon had shown up. Ramsay turned back towards Sansa, blood drying on his face and grabbed her from the burned man.    


  
“You Starks don’t know when to fucking quit do you?” he snarled, his nails digging into her as he shook her. She said nothing, eyes darting to the door behind him. If she could keep him distracted long enough, it would give Jon and his friends time to find Rickon. She could do that, she could find all the time in the world if it meant he was safe.    


  
“You don’t fuck with the pack, Ramsay,” she spat out. He growled at her, and she straightened her back, glaring at him. “You can’t scare me,” she whispered, looking him in the eyes for the first time. She held his gaze for a moment, before repeating herself louder. Ramsay Bolton couldn’t scare her, not with her pack howling in the distance. 

**««««**

Rickon pressed himself against the corner, holding his breath. The man who rushed into the room wasn’t one of their usual faces, and he could hear yelling in the halls.    


  
“Alright you two, time to go,” he said in a gruff voice, pulling Theon’s arm up. Rickon shot forward slamming the door behind him and launched at the man, tackling him to the ground. Theon moved quickly, and after a brief scuffle that ended with the man knocked out on the floor, Rickon stuck out his hand and pulled Theon up.    


  
“Sounds like something’s going on out there,” he said and Rickon shrugged.    


  
“He’s only got one gun, but he’s got a knife. Do you know how to use a gun?”    


  
“Dad never taught me. Do you?”    


  
“Yeah, Oberyn taught me, crazy son of a bitch. Okay, take the knife, I’ll take the gun and well,” Theon stopped and looked at him, an uncertain look on his face.    


  
“We run,” Rickon supplied and Theon nodded.   


  
“We run.” They snuck out of the room, Rickon’s hand twisted in the back of Theon’s shirt as they crept along the hallway of the warehouse, just like when they were kids and would sneak down the stairs to the kitchen late at night. The knife felt heavy in his hand, and Rickon gripped it tighter, standing as close to Theon as he could without tripping over him. They turned another corner, and the sight that greeted them almost made his stomach unload onto the floor. Sansa was struggling with Ramsay, her red hair tangled in his fingers and she was hitting his shoulders, yelling loudly. Theon surged forward, but Rickon grabbed his shirt tighter, terror rooting him to the spot.    


  
“Rickon, let me go, she’s getting hurt,” Theon hissed, ripping himself from him.    


  
“Wait, Theon!” Rickon yelled, but it was too late, Theon was charging towards Sansa, disregarding the hulking man that stood close to the two of them fighting. The man didn’t miss Theon though and reached out, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him down. Theon stood back up and charged at the man, but he threw him back down, a small smile playing on his face. Rickon looked down at the knife in his hand, then at Theon as he struggled to get back up a second time, the gun knocked far from his hand.    


  
He rushed in, his legs pushing him faster than he’d run before and leapt up, grabbing the man’s shoulder and shoving the knife into his neck, a yell he was trying to keep in overflowing from his lungs. The man stumbled and reached back for him, but Rickon held firm, shoving the knife deeper in.    


  
“Rickon, no!” Sansa yelled, ducking away from where Ramsay was trying to grab for her again, but he caught her wrist and yelled at her, demanding she stay still. Rickon clung harder to the man, but started to slip, the blood leaking out from under the knife making his stomach clench. The man groaned loudly, as he reached for Rickon one more time, throwing him hard against the floor as he fell. Rickon yelled as he hit the ground and moved to get up, but the sudden flash of white hot pain in his leg held him down with a loud cry. He looked down and saw his left leg twisted out, a pool of blood quickly forming under his jeans. Rickon looked over to Sansa, who was screaming his name as Ramsay picked her up and dragged her away, yelling at the entire time. 

  
“Sansa,” Rickon groaned out, pushing himself up and trying to blink back tears of pain.    


  
“Rickon!” It was Theon who was saying his name now, stumbling towards him. “Rickon, fuck, are you okay?”   


  
“Sansa,” he repeated. “Go get Sansa, I’ll be fine.”    


  
“Rickon-”    


  
“Go!” he cried, gritting his teeth and trying to smirk through the tears that were rolling down his checks. “I’ll be fine, Theon. You can’t let him-”    


  
“I’m going, I’m going,” Theon said, standing up fully now. “Be careful.”    


  
“You too.” Theon nodded and ran off behind them, scooping up the gun on his way. Rickon turned to the unmoving body of the man he’d stabbed, his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyes glazed over. He briefly wondered if the man was dead, or if he’d just fainted, but his vision started to blur, shock overtaking him. As he blurred into nothingness, a familiar face with black curls appeared above him, Jon’s voice calling his name.    


  
“Course it can’t be Lyanna,” he mumbled as he passed out. 

**««««**

Sansa screamed louder as Ramsay dragged her outside, kicking her legs and lurching forward, Rickon’s mangled body burned into her mind. He pulled her along the dock, the waves of the bay crashing loudly against the wall.    


  
“After I’m done with you, I’m going to make him watch as I fuck your corpse,” he spat. Sansa tried to pull away from him, her nails crawling into his face. Ramsay swore again and yanked her hands down from his cheeks, anger burning in his eyes as he threw her onto the pavement and loomed over her as she scurried back.    


  
“Sansa!” Theon was there suddenly, shaking as he squared his shoulders, a gun pointed at Ramsay.    


  
“You think you can scare me, Greyjoy? Think you’re some hot shit with a gun?” Ramsay asked, turning to him and throwing his arms out to the side. “Shoot me, then. Splatter my brains all over your girlfriend.”    


  
“Sansa,” Theon called her name, an unspoken plea for her to run in his voice. She stood quickly, and started to back away before she noticed the lump at Ramsay’s back, and his arm swinging back to grab it. She barely got Theon’s name out of her mouth before Ramsay fired the gun at him and Theon screamed, loud and painfully, dropping his own gun as he reached up to cradle his shoulder. Ramsay laughed, and the noise reminded Sansa of a dying seagull as he crossed back to Theon, his gun still pointed on him. Before she could convince her feet to move, he fired another shot into his stomach.    


  
“Thought you were gonna kill me, Greyjoy. Thought you were going to save your girl, but here you are! Bleeding out and weak. Weak and a freak, a fuck up who ran away from home. It’s best that I’m putting you out of your misery, you know. No one really wants you, no one cares what happens to Theon Greyjoy, do they? Theon Greyjoy died and no one cared,” Ramsay taunted, kicking Theon as he fell to the ground, his face pale. He leveled his gun again, aimed at Theon’s head and Sansa surged forward, his name ripping out of her throat. Ramsay turned slightly and she collided into him, tackling him to the ground. Earlier, she had been sure she had fought Ramsay with everything she had, but now there was more in her. Rickon was broken and bleeding inside, Theon dying quickly beside them. Ramsay tried to roll her off, but she pushed all her weight down and clawed at his face, slapping his hands away as he reached up to grab her. Grabbing her wrist he threw her back a little, and twisted it back, a wild grin on his face. She reared her head back and knocked their skulls together, ignoring the jolt of pain that ran down her body as she did. Ramsay said something, but she couldn’t make it out, too focused on getting him down again. He turned slightly and she caught his ear with her teeth, biting down into it as hard as she could, pulling and grinding her teeth down as he screamed until blood spurted into her mouth and then her teeth were touching again, a bit of his ear in her mouth.

  
Ramsay screeched as she ripped the bit of his ear off, and she spat it down at him, his blood dribbling from her chin. He kneed her hard in the stomach, shoving her off as she gasped and rolled away. He dove for his gun and she snatched Theon’s from where it had fallen and pulled herself up, shaking as she held it firmly. She hadn’t fired a gun in years, not since Ned had taken them all to the shooting range as children and she hated it, begged to go home. As Ramsay stumbled back up and looked at her, his face closer to a wild animal than a person, Sansa suddenly understood what Jon had meant when he had confided in her you only see survival in the second it counts. She squeezed the trigger, the recoil shoving her shoulders back but she fired again as Ramsay stood near the edge of the dock, bloody and yelling. He took a step forward and she squeezed off one more shot, tears streaming down her face as she watched the bullet drive itself into his chest, and he stumbled backwards, a final guttural yell as he fell off the dock and Sansa threw the gun to the ground when she heard a splash in the water. A low groan brought her back from the panicked headspace she was entering and she dropped down to the ground.    


  
“Theon, can you hear me?” she asked, pushing his hair out of his face. He looked up at her, his face completely empty of colour and blood pooling darkly in his mouth.    


  
“Sansa,” he mumbled, blinking at her slowly. His breaths were shallow and too slow, and she squeezed his hand, but he didn’t squeeze back.    


  
“No, no, Theon, don’t, please,” she begged, but his gaze was empty and his chest stopped moving.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled with how I wanted to post this chapter, originally I had it broken up into about 3 parts but I realized that I post too short of chapters (maybe?). 
> 
> Poor Sansa, poor Rickon, poor Theon! Please let me know what you guys think, feedback is always welcome!


	22. Memories, Casts, and Other Things.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, no, no,” she repeated, pushing against the wound on his stomach, his blood covering her hands. “You don’t get to die, not now!”    


  
“Sansa!” Jon’s voice was so sudden and jarring that she let out a small scream when she heard it, turning her head to see her cousin practically flying towards her.    


  
“Jon, do something, you have to do something,” she choked out, her entire body shaking. He dropped to the ground beside her, his hands cupping her face.    


  
“Are you hurt?”    


  
“Jon, help him. Please Jon, you have to do something you need to do something,” she babbled, grabbing his wrists and he looked at her and then down to Theon, letting out a soft breath. His hands fell from her face and she watched as he stripped off his jacket, focus coming over his face.    


  
“There should be some EMTs around, go get one,” he instructed and Sansa shook her head.    


  
“I can’t leave him,” she argued but when he turned back to look at her, she stood up shakily, her legs somehow moving without her permission. She went back through the door Ramsay had dragged her through, looking around wildly. People were running around, and there was a group of people in a circle around what she realized was Rickon and she swallowed some bile that crept up. Sansa wasn’t sure how her voice left her body, but she knew it did as she watched people rush out to Jon and Theon, their voices so far away. Rickon’s head was closer now but someone stepped in front of her, placing their hands on her shoulders and Sansa watched their lips moving, no noise coming out of them. Glancing past their shoulders, she felt the bile coming up again at the sight of Rickon’s face. His cheek was busted open and bleeding, bruises covering his handsome features and she felt her stomach unload onto the person in front of her.    


  
Another person was grabbing her shoulders now, his hands cupping her face in the same way Jon had done early, his lips moving slowly as he spoke. His voice was muffled by the howling wolves in her head, the face blurry and out of sorts. His hand moved to hair and she jerked back, trying to scream out for him to stop. The man dropped his hands from her, his face warping into Ramsay’s empty blue eyes for a second before steely grey replaced them. A vague shape moved to his left and she stumbled backwards, throwing her hands out to catch herself.    


  
“Sansa, it’s okay,” a deep voice cut through the fog, wrapping itself around her.

**««««**

She blinked a few times, as the scene around her changed again and she was sitting on the back porch, sobbing loudly as her dad knelt in front of her. Theon was sulking behind him, his arms crossed and ratty little face scrunched up.    


  
_ “He shoved me, Daddy!” she sniffled. “Theon shoved me and it’s my birthday and he ruined my new dress.”  _ _   
_

_   
_ _ “You called me smelly!” Theon shot back, and Ned sighed, pushing himself up.  _ _   
_

_   
_ _ “Go inside Theon, Mrs.Stark wants to talk to you,” he told him and Theon objected loudly, but after a moment his shoulders dropped and he stormed inside, muttering ‘brat’ to her as he went.  _ _   
_

_   
_ _ “Daddy, I’m not a brat,” she told him when he knelt back down in front of her and began to wipe the blood off her knees. “Theon’s always so mean, why does Robb like him? Is it because I’m a girl?”  _ _   
_

_   
_ _ “No, Sansie you’re not a brat. Theon is just very angry inside,” Ned told her softly, but she ignored him.  _ _   
_

_   
_ _ “He’s the worst, and I hate him. He’s only nice to Robb, he told Jon that he was a bastard, you know?” Ned sat silently as Sansa listed all of Theon’s other sins, that he chewed with his mouth opened, that he had called Rickon ugly and even if he was he was a baby so he was beautiful, that he smelled, that his jeans were too short and his shirts too long, that he called her stupid. She stopped to take a breath, and watched as he put a bandaid over both of her knees before planting a kiss on each one. He stood up and scooped her into his arms, holding her eyes steady. _ _   
_

_   
_ _ “I know that Theon is mean to you sometimes, Sansie. And I know that he’s mean to Jon. Mommy and I aren’t ignoring that, and it’s not right, or nice. It’s why we make him apologize, just like we make you apologize when you’re mean to Arya.”  _ _   
_

_   
_ _ “Yeah, but you’re our Mommy and Daddy, not his.”  _ _   
_

_   
_ _ “Theon’s daddy isn’t very nice to him Sansa. Sometimes that makes people act not very nice. You can share us with Theon, can’t you? You share us with Robb, Jon, Arya, Bran, and now Rickon too.”  _ _   
_

_   
_ _ “I guess. What about mean people who’s mommies and daddies are nice to them?” she asked and Ned kissed her forehead.  _ _   
_

_   
_ _ “You’ll know what that answer is one day, but I hope it’s not one day soon, little one.”  _

**««««**   
  


“Sansie, can you hear me?” A soft and airy voice cut through her memory, drawing her away from the circle she saw herself twirling in before Theon had shoved her. Sansa blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the sudden yellow light in her face. Her mom was sitting in front of her, her face streaked with tears and hair the messiest Sansa had ever seen, piled into a bun on top of her head. There were a few grey hairs at her temple and Sansa wondered about them, Catelyn had been so young just a moment ago. 

“I want to go home,” she heard herself say and Catelyn surged forward, pulling her to her chest, a sob in her voice. “I want to go home, Mom.” Catelyn stroked her hair, shushing her softly, her voice comforting and calm. She tucked her face into her shoulder, her entire body shaking as the last few hours rushed back to her. Theon, Rickon, Ramsay. Ramsay’s face as he stumbled backwards into the water, Theon’s blood on her hands, Rickon lying broken on the ground.    
  


Rickon.    


  
“Rickon, Mom I need to see him,” she said quickly, trying to pull away from her. Catelyn held her tightly, her voice breaking slightly.    


  
“We can’t see him yet, they’re trying to figure out all the,” her mother’s voice faltered for a moment, “they’re still trying to see how hurt he is.” Sansa cried a little louder, the image of Rickon’s twisted leg coming back to her mind. It had to be bad, the way blood had started to seep through his dirty jeans almost instantly. The scream he’d let out when he’d fallen echoed in her ears and she shuttered, twisting her hands into Catelyn’s sweater. A gentle hand ran up and down her back, Catelyn doing her best to soothe her as she shook. Theon’s name hung heavy on her heart, unwilling to ask the question that she already knew the answer to.    


  
She had watched as Theon had taken his last breath, her name on his lips, blood staining his beautiful smile. Sansa’s sobs grew louder, a hoarse and terrified noise that echoed in the quiet room. She cried until there was nothing left, just empty breaths of air trying to find a place to fall. Catelyn held her through it, her arms shaking and small hitches of her own breath occasionally, but didn’t speak beyond just a few words of nothing. Sansa pulled away from her, her exhaustion threatening to pull her into sleep.   


  
“He’s gone, Mom. Theon’s gone,” she whispered, and Catelyn’s face was twisted in an expression Sansa couldn’t quite place. She’d seen it a few times, when something heavy weighed on her mind. She rested a hand on her cheek before tucking some hair behind her ear and Sansa watched her search her face for something. Was it fear? Heartbreak? Right now all Sansa felt was empty, there was no other way to describe it. She had killed a man and all she felt was empty. Ramsay’s face flashed before her again, his limp blue eyes boring into her and she blinked him away looking down at her legs. Grey sweatpants had replaced her jeans, and her hands were clean now, no more blood or grime to be seen on them. Catelyn must have helped clean her up, she realized. How long had she been floating outside her body, reliving her father’s words?    


  
“Sansa, listen to me,” Catelyn said, taking her hands gently, “Theon is in surgery right now-”    


  
“What?” she cut her off, jumping to her feet before she could stop herself. Theon was in surgery? He was alive. Theon was alive.    


  
“Sansa, you can’t,” but she had already pushed past her and darted out of the room, running down the hospital hall. She wasn’t sure what direction to go, she realized as she ran, but something was pulling her along, like the moon pulled the waves to the shore. The howling in her head returned as she turned left and dodged a nurse, the wolf inside her running with her. She didn’t stop until she saw Robb’s back, his shoulders dropped and hair sticking up in every direction. Across from him was Yara Greyjoy, her normally calm and composed face contorted with rage. There were tears streaming down her face as she yelled at Robb, but her voice dropped off when she saw her over his shoulder.    


  
“You,” there was venom in her voice that Sansa hadn’t heard in years, not since Yara had thrown Balon out of Theon’s sixteenth birthday party, all the anger she’d ever had directed at him in a moment of bright fury. Sansa moved towards her quickly, her apologies spilling out as she went. “Don’t fucking touch me, Stark.”    


  
Stark. Yara hadn’t called her by her last name, ever. It had always been how Balon had referred to them, like they weren’t worthy to even see his children. Hearing it from Yara froze her in place beside Robb and she shrunk in on herself.    
  


“How long have you known?” she demanded and Sansa shuttered.    


  
“Four months,” she admitted and Robb hissed beside her while Yara continued to yell.    


  
“Four months? You knew he was alive for four months and didn’t tell anyone? Didn’t tell his sister, his family? You didn’t think I’d want to know Theon was alive?” 

  
“I didn’t tell anyone,” she whispered and Yara let out a choked laugh. 

  
“No, you didn't. You kept him all to yourself like a little high school secret or some shit. Drowned God, how fucked up is that?” Yara continued on, throwing out every insult she could think of at her, and Sansa reached out to grab Robb’s hand but he stepped away from her. She glanced over to him, but the look on his face was one of disgust, his face blotchy with tears and snot. 

"He wasn't yours to keep!" Yara screamed as it sunk into Sansa, hair falling into her face and Sansa wished Yara had slapped her instead. "Theon is my  _ brother _ , he's the only family I have left. He's my baby brother! I've been alone while you Starks cried together, moping around like you lost your favourite fucking dog." 

"Yara-" Robb said but she cut him off, a storm raging in her eyes. 

"Theon would've followed all of you to the ends of the earth, he had to  _ die _ to keep you fucking idiots safe. And now he's really going to die and I didn't get to have him back. I didn't get him back!" Her anger consumed the room, growing and flaming around her. 

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to keep him safe." 

"He would've been safe if you hadn't fucking come back into his life. He'd still be dead to us but he'd be alive!" 

"You'd rather think he was dead?" she shot back and Yara closed in on her. 

"I'd rather him be happy, and healthy. I would've rather continue to live my life knowing I loved my baby brother and he wasn't coming back instead of watching him die because he thought he was some sort of damned hero.” A doctor stepped into the room behind Yara, his eyes wide at the scene before him.    


  
“Miss Greyjoy? Can you follow me, please?” he asked timidly and Yara glared at Sansa one last time before turning on her heels and following him, a ‘fuck you’ lingering in the air as she left. 

Robb clenched his fists and looked at her, his voice low. "You need to go back to your room, Sansa."

"Robb, please I need-" 

"No. You  _ need _ to go back to your room. You  _ need _ to stop playing at being the ruler of all this shit. You don't  _ need _ to sit here and wait for when that fucking surgeon comes out and tells us Theon didn't make it. Just go." Robb's voice was cold, and Sansa felt the tears hot on her face.    


  
“I’m so sorry, Robb.” He shook his head and sat down on one of the plastic chairs near the door Yara had walked through and stared at the floor quietly. She turned and walked blindly down the hallway, not knowing quite where she was going. The ICU was quiet, families crowded into rooms around their loved ones. 

"Remember when he was born?" Arya's voice caught her ear as she walked past a room and she back traced, sniffling quietly. 

"Not really," Bran's voice answered her and Arya laughed. 

"You hated him, a lot. I think you hated him more than Sansa hated me." Sansa slid into the room, staring at the back of her younger siblings' heads. Rickon was still out, his leg propped up and face covered in stitches. Bran was sitting next to the of the bed, while Arya had folded herself onto the side of it. 

"Sansa, did I hate Rickon?" Bran asked and Arya's head swung around, her grey eyes wide. She climbed onto the bed behind Arya and folded her legs around her, resting her chin on her shoulder.

"You did," she confirmed and Arya grinned. "You thought he was ugly and disgusting." 

"I was right about the ugly part," he shrugged and Sansa stifled a giggle. Rickon was a true mixture of their parents, red curls and steely grey eyes with high cheekbones and a long face. He'd looked ancient as a child, his chubby cheeks always anxious. Now he looked so small, and the tears stung her eyes again. 

"What are you doing here anyways?" Arya asked and Sansa's shoulders dropped. 

"Mom told me Theon was in surgery, I kind of made a break for it. I ran into Yara and Robb." Arya let out a whistle and Bran sighed.    


  
“It’s all my fault,” she whispered and Arya twisted around to face her.    


  
“Bullshit. It’s all Ramsay Bolton’s fault,” she said hotly and Sansa shook her head. She’d kept so many secrets that had just led to the people she loved being hurt, how couldn’t it be her fault? She must’ve worn the thought on her face because Bran spoke next.    


  
“Why is it your fault Sansa?”    


  
“I lied to Robb about Theon. I didn’t tell Yara he was alive, I didn’t tell Mom or Dad, or anyone. If I hadn’t kept in contact with him, or if I just hadn’t seen him none of this would’ve happened. Rickon wouldn’t be hurt.”   


  
“Okay then, you’re right. It’s your fault,” Bran said and Arya hissed his name. “No, Arya listen. Sansa thinks it’s her fault that she kept a secret she wasn’t even supposed to know. She thinks it’s her fault Ramsay Bolton broke out of prison and tried to kidnap her and instead kidnapped Rickon. It’s her fault that she kept in contact with someone she loved after finding out they weren’t dead. So, she’s right. This is all Sansa’s fault.”    


  
“It’s not my fault Ramsay broke out of prison,” she argued and Bran raised his eyebrows.    


  
“But you said it was all your fault, right? So that must be too.”    


  
“I get what you’re trying to do Bran but-”   


  
“But what? If you really think all of this is your fault, then all of it is. It’s your fault Theon went to go buy weed from a weird dude in a warehouse. It’s your fault Theon decided to do the right thing and help put Ramsay in prison. All of this is your fault, right?” Bran watched her carefully, and finally she spoke.    


  
“No, it’s not. None of that is my fault.”    


  
“Exactly. Rickon isn’t your fault either. All of this is Ramsay’s fault, and you took care of that.” Silence hung between them for a moment before Arya spoke, her voice gentle.    


  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Sansa shook her head, instead choosing to watch Rickon’s eyes flutter, his long eyelashes brushing the tops of his cheeks. Arya and Bran spoke quietly to each other as Sansa sat watching over their little brother, her arms wrapped tightly around Arya. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, just watching him, but it brought her some sort of comfort to sit and watch him, watch the rise and fall of his chest, listen to the steady beeping of the machine he was hooked up to.    


  
“Sansa,” their father’s voice filled the room and she turned quickly to face him. “You shouldn’t have run off like that.” Her shoulders dropped and she unfolded herself from the bed, squeezing Arya’s hand as she went.    


  
“I know, I’m sorry. I wanted to see-”    


  
“I know what you wanted. It’s alright,” he said and crossed to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “It’s not your fault, Sansa.”    


  
“We already did the bullying and not your fault speech Dad,” Bran said and Ned sighed, glancing over at his son.    


  
“You might’ve but it doesn’t hurt to say it. None of this is your fault, or Rickon’s. Or Theon’s. You three didn’t do anything wrong,” he spoke slowly and steady, and Sansa nodded, shoving down the urge to argue. No matter what Bran and Ned told her, she couldn’t help but feel it was still her fault. Ned led her out of Rickon’s room, assuring her that she would be able to come back and visit later, but for now she had to return to her own room. They walked quietly back to the hospital room Sansa had run from, a silence hanging between them that she couldn’t place. Catelyn wasn’t in the room when they entered, a note sitting on the bed telling them she’d gone to sit with Robb. Sansa crawled onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow, trying to find the words to tell Ned about the day. She listened to the shuffling as he sat down and got comfortable. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked after some time had passed and she sat up to look at him. His face was gentle and relaxed, no hint of anger or disappointment that she could read, just concern in his eyes. Her words poured out before she could stop them, the entire story finally off her chest. She told him about seeing Theon that night at the show and returning home with him, about the secret emails and the longing and hiding it from Robb. When she was done and the room was silent for a while, Ned spoke.    


  
“People do crazy things when they’re in love, Sansa,” he told her and stood up before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, we’ll all be here tomorrow.” And so Sansa slept.    


  
She woke up the next morning to a tall, blonde woman hovering over her, looking at the bruises and scrapes on her face.    


  
“Good morning, Sansa. You might not remember meeting me last night. I’m Doctor Tarth,but Brienne is fine. Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”    


  
“Exhausted, worried, every bad emotion I’ve ever felt probably,” she admitted and Brienne chuckled.    


  
“Doesn’t surprise me, but other than that, you’re going to be fine. You’ll be discharged today, though. I think the majority of your healing is going to have to take place in your head.” Sansa nodded and sat up, watching the doctor carefully.    


  
“Can you tell me something? About another patient?” she asked after a moment and Brienne tilted her head.    


  
“Not too much, but your brother is awake and driving all my nurses up the wall. He’s got a pretty bad attitude about his broken leg. He’s been sedated though, the pain was getting to him” she said and Sansa grinned.    


  
“That sounds like Rickon, he’s going to be mad for weeks. Is Theon,” her voice trailed off, but Sansa forced herself to finish her question. “Is Theon alright?” Brienne was quiet while she thought and smiled softly at her.    


  
“He survived his surgery, but he’s not out of the woods yet. He’s got a long road ahead of him when he wakes up.” Sansa nodded, the knot in her chest loosing. Brienne left the room, assuring her she would be discharged soon again and Sansa sat on the bed, staring at her hands. Part of her wanted to sneak through the halls to Rickon’s room and crawl into bed with him, tucking her chin into his shoulder like when they were children and he’d have a bad dream and Robb wouldn’t let him sleep with him. Another part of her wanted to find Theon’s room and just sit there and watch him, reassure herself that the moving of his chest was real. She knew Yara was there though, and Yara’s anger was still fresh in her mind. So instead, she sat and waited until someone came into her room to let her leave.   


  
It ended up being Catelyn who swept into the room, a small duffle bag on her arm and looking far better than she had the night before. She fused over her for a few moments, tutting at the black eye that Sansa had formed.    


  
“My poor pet, you’ll feel awful for weeks,” she said when she finally handed the duffle bag to her. “I brought you clean clothes, and your shower things. Shower things at hospitals are just always awful, I hated them. When I had you, your dad forgot my to-go bag, you know.”    


  
“He did?” Sansa asked, realizing she’d never heard this story before. She held the bag close and listened as her mom spoke.    


  
“Yes! Left it right by the door, he wasn’t there when Robb was born and I think the idea of missing your birth was unimaginable for him. He loaded Robb, Jon, and I into the car and just took off.”    


  
“Jon was there?” she asked quietly and Catelyn nodded.    


  
“Yeah, your Aunt Lyanna was having a rough time right after Jon was born. His dad was completely awful, and she just needed to focus on getting better. We took care of him for a long time before she was better,” Catelyn said and smiled at her. “I was so mad at your dad at first, because Robb’s only three months older. I didn’t want to share him with another baby, I wanted him to focus completely on Robb and me. Jon was such a somber baby though, never cried, never laughed. He and Robb bonded fast, and once I got over the fact I was suddenly a mom to two newborns it was easier. I was less angry, but still sad. Sad for Lyanna, and sad for Jon.”    


  
“Aunt Lyanna never really got better, did she?” Sansa asked and Catelyn shook her head.    


  
“No, she didn’t. Jon and Theon have a lot in common, in that sense. It’s part of the reason it was so easy for us to just accept him and Yara. We already had one lost pup, what were two more? They needed to be loved and we could do that.” Sansa crossed the room quickly and wrapped her in her arms. Catelyn clung back to her, hugging her tightly.    


  
“Oh my sweet, brave girl. You’re so full of love, and you’re so clever,” she said when she pulled back, smiling at her. “Shower, get dressed. I’ll be with Rickon.” Sansa nodded and watched her as she left the room. After showering and changing into the leggings and sweater she’d been brought, she headed out of the room with her duffle bag and dead phone, wandering back the way she’d come with Ned the following night from Rickon’s room. Along the way she saw Yara ducking out of a room and she pressed herself into a hallway, unwilling to have a repeated conversation with her. She was determined not to go into his room, if it was his, but as she walked by the room Yara had left, she knew she had to.    


  
Theon was alive, if Sansa wanted to call it that. He was hooked up to machines, his chest barely moving as soft beeps surrounded him. Part of his head was shaved, and there was almost no colour in his face, she realized as she got closer.    


  
“It’s scary, isn’t it?” a soft voice asked and she looked up to see a pretty woman with soft brown eyes watching her. She realized it was Margaery after a moment, her mind catching up to all the pictures Robb had shown her. Sansa could tell why Robb was so in love, her long, flowing hair and gentle face. “He looks so tiny, with all those wires. I barely recognized him when I came in with Willas and Oberyn to visit last night.” Her voice was melodic and Sansa felt her stomach clench. She had gotten to see Theon before she had, she hadn’t had to listen to Yara scream that her brother was going to die.    


  
“You’re Sansa right? I’m Margaery. Robb’s told me a lot about you, he thinks we’d be fast friends,” she said and Sansa smiled faintly, looking down at Theon’s bruised face.    


  
“So does he.”    


  
“Between the two of them, I’m sure they’ve been right a few times, haven’t they?” she smiled widely at Sansa and she laughed, sitting down in the empty chair next to his bed. She wanted to reach out and push some of the hair out of his eyes, but settled for tracing her finger along hand.    


  
“What’s he been like? The last five years?” she asked before she could stop herself and Margaery hmm’d quietly.    


  
“Cocky, but kind. Harras- Sorry, Theon. His sister almost punched me when I called him Harras. Theon’s always been kind of withdrawn as well though, whenever we’d go out or go on trips. With strangers through he just kind of sank into the background, didn’t want anyone to talk to him. I thought he was just shy, but I guess not,” she answered and Sansa glanced over at her.    


  
“Theon’s never been shy with anyone unless he thought you were getting too close. He was a menace when we were kids.”    


  
“Really?”    


  
“Yeah, I don’t think I heard him say anything nice the first year I knew him. We were all so little though, and he was so angry. He got less angry, it was like watching the sunrise sometimes,” Sansa admitted and Margaery smiled again.    


  
“Childhood love is so pure. Robb mentioned he was always certain that you two were dating behind his back.” Sansa laughed, giving Margaery a real smile.    


  
“Not quite behind his back, but only because we never were officially dating. We were just, together? He saved me from a horrible prom my senior year of high school, and after that we were tangled up in each other.”    


  
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”    


  
Shrugging, Sansa told her the story. “I used to date this guy, Joffrey. He was a real bastard, never had anything nice to say, treated everyone terribly. I was certain I was in love though, because he was beautiful and the golden boy of the soccer team. At prom he cornered me in the hallway, tried to get up my gown. I punched him, broke his nose, got blood all over my gown,” Margaery laughed at that, and rested her chin on her hand. “I panicked and called Theon. I didn’t want Robb or our dad to know because they’d be nuts so I just called Theon. I thought maybe he would laugh at me, or make fun of me but he didn’t. He took one look at me, one look at Joffrey, and told me good job. He bought us milkshakes on the way back to my house. And I uh, I kissed him, then ran inside.” Margaery’s grin was huge and blinding when Sansa was done, a joke behind her eyes that was kind.    


  
“That is adorable. I wonder what he thought about the kiss.”    


  
“He called me having a fit because of it,” a harsh voice interrupted and Sansa flinched, standing up quickly.    


  
“Sorry, I’ll go. It was nice to meet you, Margaery.” Margaery nodded and glanced over at Yara who was glaring at Sansa. The fury from the night before wasn’t there though, instead a look of exhaustion on her face and the smoke clinging to her made Sansa think of a dragon who’d lost its fire.    


  
“You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to. He’d be pissy that I sent you off, anyways. Theon’s always had a soft spot for you Starks anyways,” she said, dropping into the chair Sansa had moved away from, watching her brother. 

  
“Yara, I’m sor-” but she held up a head and shook her head.    


  
“Save it, Sansa. Doctors say if he makes it through the next couple nights, he should come outta it. I’m too tired to be angry right now,” she said and turned her head.    


  
“I’ll come back, but I’m going to see Rickon,” Sansa said after a moment, realizing Yara wanted an answer. Yara waved her off, turning back to Theon. Margaery gave her a small wave as well, and Sansa headed back to her own brother’s room. Rickon was awake this time, arguing with Catelyn when she slipped in.    


  
“I really just want to go home. I’m fine!” he snapped and Catelyn groaned.    


  
“You’re not fine, Rickon. You have a concussion. Your leg is broken in three spots, that isn’t fine!”    


  
“Sansa gets to go home!” he yelled, and Sansa smiled, sitting down on the end of his bed.    


  
“I don’t know if spending every second watching you until you’re out will count as going home,” she told him and he rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms and fell back against the pillows piled behind him. Rickon glared at her, but said nothing. Catelyn fussed over him a bit longer before Robb wandered into the room quietly.    


  
“Mom, Bran’s looking for you,” he said, purposely avoiding Sansa’s eyes.   


  
“Isn’t Bran at home?”    


  
“Yeah, he sent me a bunch of ominous texts though, but I think one of the dogs threw up on the carpet again.” Catelyn stood up and rolled her eyes, kissing all three  of them on the forehead before leaving, her voice carrying out of the room as she called Bran.    


  
“Did one of the dogs really throw up?” Sansa asked and Robb ignored her, instead turning to Rickon, and poking one of his stitches. Rickon slapped his hand away, and stuck out his tongue. They went back and forth for a while, talking about everything while she sat quietly, watching them. Robb ignored her everytime she tried to enter the conversation until Rickon snapped at him.    


  
“If you don’t at least say hi to Sansa I’m going to make you clean out my bedpan for the next week. AND I’m going to use your fancy album award to itch inside my cast,” he said and Robb’s mouth moved like a fish for a moment, until he turned and looked at her for the first time that day. She raised her eyebrows at him hopefully, until he spoke softly.    


  
“Hey Sansie.”    


  
“Hey Robb.”    


  
“Do you, uh, wanna go grab a coffee? Jon, Smalljon, and, Jory are in the cafeteria,” his voice was strained and he threw his eyes to the floor but Sansa smiled at him anyways. She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly and he finally looked back up.    


  
“I’d love to,” she said and Rickon urged them out, demanding they bring him back a lime jello.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I was really unhappy with this chapter. I'm still kind of unhappy, but if I kept fighting with it, it'd never get up so I did my best with what my goblin brain would give me. 
> 
> Please let me know how you guys feel/think about everything!


	23. The Worst Day Since Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait between updates! Life got crazy and I kind of put this on a very far away backburner. 
> 
> This chapter has mentions of panic attacks, the previous incidents from the fic, and references to violence. 
> 
> This is a Sansa-centric chapter, because she deserves it.

Robb burst into tears when they entered the stairwell, and Sansa watched in amazement as all the anger seeped out of his body. She stepped forward carefully and offered him a hug. He buried his face in her shoulder and shook, loud exhausted sobs escaping him. She rubbed circles on his back, mumbling comforting words as he cried. After a while he pulled back from her and wiped his cheeks, grinning weakly.

  
  
“Please don’t hate me Sansa.” She gaped at him, her brain trying to catch up to what he had said.

  
“What?”

  
“I was so mean to you, and I yelled at you and you were scared and I-” Sansa cut him off, her chest a little lighter.

  
“Robb, how could I hate you?”

  
“You should, you were just trying to protect everyone. I was just a dick.”

  
“You weren’t, you weren’t! Robb, you weren’t a dick at all.” Sansa squeezed his shoulder. “You were scared and I wasn’t helping. How could I hate you? You’re my big brother, you would’ve done the same for me.”

  
“I can’t lie worth shit though. You would’ve figured me out in a day,” he said and she smiled at him. “C’mon Sansie. Let me buy you coffee.” Sansa knocked her shoulder against his and they continued down the stairs in a comfortable silence, Robb’s snot drying on her sweater. Smalljon was the first to notice them when they stepped into the cafeteria, his face bursting into a smile when he spied them.

  
“Robb, Sansa!” he yelled, waving at them excitedly. Jory turned to see them, a kind look on his face, and Jon looked up from his phone, his face exhausted.

  
“Boys!” Sansa said, sitting down next to Jory trying to keep her smile straight. Jon had heavy bags under his eyes, and a few scrapes and bruises were on his face and arms. Her stomach twisted, and she wished she could make them disappear. “Jon, how’re you feeling?” she asked and he shrugged.

  
“Worn out, but nothing too bad. I’ll be fine after I finish this cup of coffee.”

  
“You’d feel better if you headed home and went to bed,” Jory told him and Jon rolled his eyes.

  
Smalljon nodded, his beard bobbing. “That’s your fifth cup of coffee, Snow. You’ll have a heart attack if you keep it up.”

  
“Good thing we’re in a hospital then,” Jon shot back and Robb threw his arm around his shoulder. Smalljon and Jory carried the conversation with Robb while Jon and Sansa looked at each other quietly. They’d always had a quieter relationship than her other siblings, having clashed often in childhood but grown close as teenagers. He tilted his head at her and slid his phone across the table, an article pulled up on it.

  
  
**LOCAL MOBSTER AND ESCAPED CONVICT, RAMSAY BOLTON, FOUND DEAD**

**15 ARRESTED IN SUSPICION OF MURDER, GANG RELATED ACTIONS, AND KIDNAPPING OF SENATOR NED STARK’S CHILDREN**

Sansa read the headline a few times before pushing the phone back to Jon, not even reading the article. She didn’t need to know what some reporter thought happened, or see pictures of Ramsay’s waterlogged body. She didn’t want to see whatever photos had been sold of Rickon hurt, or herself in terror. Jon gave her a sympathetic smile, and she shrugged, not wanting to discuss a new weight that tied them together. The shock of killing Ramsay hadn’t quite worn off yet, and she didn’t want to talk about how she could still feel the ache in her shoulders from the recoil, or how the splash was echoing in her head. Eventually, they returned to Rickon’s room, a stack of lime jello cups in both their hands.

  
“Glad to see you guys are over it,” he said as he made grabby hands at them, and Sansa and Robb smiled at each other, and Sansa felt lighter than she had in months.

  
**««««**

The house was quiet around Sansa as she stumbled to the bathroom, her face too hot to touch and her vision cloudy. She didn’t bother turning on the lights, remembering how last time she had she’d fallen to the floor and screamed at the sudden change. She fumbled with the faucet for a moment, before the water turned on started to swirl in the deep bowl, she watched it for a moment before popping the drain and shoving her face into the sink as it filled. She held her breath as water pooled around her, the cold ripples dancing on her cheeks. The slamming of her heart began to slow down as the water around her rose, Theon’s voice from childhood echoing in her head to remember not to breathe it, to just let the water take her. Sansa kept her face in the water until she couldn’t anymore, her lungs burning when she finally came up from the sink, but her heart was calm again. She blinked a few times, the heat from her face dropping away some and her vision clearing. The low light of the hallway night light crept into the room and she stared at her reflection and gripped the sides of the sink.

  
  
She felt like she hadn’t slept for more than a few hours for weeks since coming home from the hospital. There were heavy bags under her blood shot eyes, and her face looked hollow, her normally round cheeks were gaunt. She pushed wet hair out of her face and looked down into the sinkful of water, the reflection in the mirror felt like it was taunting her. She counted her breaths carefully like Shae had taught her, but her face still felt dirty from where Ramsay had touched it.

  
  
Sansa never wanted to admit to anyone that her hands still smelled like the dirt and grime in the warehouse, or that every time she even saw a red liquid she could taste his blood in her mouth. The last week since coming home had been awful, every time she tried to sleep it all replayed in front of her, Rickon’s unmoving body, Theon’s blood on her clothes, Ramsay’s face as she shot him. It was a bad episode of a show but she couldn’t change the channel. She tried to blink away how Rickon had looked on the ground, his long frame twisted and broken, but she felt like she was falling into it and she heard herself let out a small noise that sounded like a mouse crying.

  
Something soft pressed against her leg, and a low whine forced her to look over to where Lady was leaning against her, her face turned up towards her and pressing her towards the bathroom wall.

  
“Oh Lady,” Sansa whispered, wiping her face and sliding down against the wall. “Lady, I can’t stop seeing it.” Lady seated herself between Sansa’s legs and tucked her snout against her neck, giving her a soft bark. Sansa buried her face into her fur and wrapped her arms around her, clinging to the comfort she offered. A few moments later, another bark went through the hallway and Sansa could’ve sworn the small growl that went through Lady’s chest was once of annoyance as Smiler tumbled into the bathroom, his tongue hanging out of his mouth and ears perked up.

  
“Hey buddy,” she said and reached out a hand to scratch his head. “You miss him too, huh?” Smiler barked again and Sansa nodded, pulling herself off the floor. Lady stood with her, pressing back against her leg as they left the bathroom, Smiler on her heels. The walk back to her bedroom was slow, but for the first time in a week, she felt safe as the dogs walked with her. She crawled back into bed and Lady followed suit, stretching out and tucking her snout under a pillow. Sansa watched as Smiler circled the spot at her legs a few times before settling down and putting his snout on her leg, and letting out a small huff.

  
  
“Good dogs,” she said, and for the first time in a long time, she saw no one’s face as she slept. 

**««««**

The second week after the ordeal, Sansa finally agreed to an official girls night out with Arya, Margaery, and Ellaria at Yara’s bar. Gendry had been pale faced as they’d left, but Arya assured him the only person he had to worry about trying to fight him was Catelyn and she was sure her mother wouldn’t risk breaking a nail on murder. Everyone had laughed, and Sansa had forced out a small one, trying to ignore the way the word made her skin crawl.

  
_Murder. Murderer. You’re a murderer._

  
She pushed the thought away and took another drink from her glass, the cheap vodka burning her throat. As a rule, Yara never used fancy alcohol, unless a customer requested it or pissed her off and Sansa wasn’t an expectation. If Sansa was being honest, she wasn’t sure what she was drinking. Margaery had brought the drinks to the table, talking loudly over the truly awful band that was playing. Arya and Ellaria had broken off to the pool table in the corner, and were currently sweeping some college boys under the table with bright smiles. Margaery had wandered off to the bathroom, yelling something about a boob shot for Robb, and Sansa was alone. She took another drink, only to discover her glass was empty. The bar wasn’t that busy, she could easily get another drink. Getting another drink meant speaking to Yara though, which Sansa still hadn’t mastered. The noise around her pressed down, and Sansa forced her way over to the bar, needing something to quiet it.

  
“What’ll it be, Stark?” Yara said when she looked up and Sansa tried to smile, but dropped it when Yara raised an eyebrow.

  
“Vodka and cranberry?” she said, and Yara nodded, the drink already coming over the counter.

“Good bartenders don’t forget easy customers’ drinks.” A silence hung between them, and then Yara spoke again.

  
“This band is shit.”

  
“I’m sure they’ll get better,” Sansa said, and Yara huffed.

  
“Nope, they’ve been booking the stage for weeks now. They’re shit, they’ll stay shit.”

  
“Why do you let them play, then?” Sansa asked and Yara tilted her head.

  
  
“They pay me, and I guess I don’t mind them too much.”

  
  
“You think they’re shit though.” Yara laughed, and a smile reached her eyes for the first time in a long time, if Sansa was being honest.

  
  
“Sometimes,” she said, “things are just shit. It doesn’t make you enjoy them less, and sometimes they do get better, even if you think they won’t. Shit doesn’t need to stay shit, but you have to give it room to grow into fertilizer.” Sansa smiled back at her and took a drink, noticing the vodka was less harsh this time. 

“We’re all trying to be fertilizer, Sansa. Sometimes we’re more shit than fertilizer, but other times we make some damn beautiful flowers.”

  
  
“Thanks Yara, I’ll remember that.”

  
  
“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone I was the one who said it.” Sansa agreed, and took a deep breath before crossing the bar to the pool table and joining her sister and their new friends, Margaery appearing behind her suddenly with a loud cheer when Ellaria hit three balls into a pocket. 

Maybe all these moments would somehow become damn beautiful flowers.

**««««**

Between therapy, attempting to please her friends and family with her presence, and the long hours she spent floating in the pool, Sansa felt like she barely had time to see Rickon and Theon. She knew logically she spent every moment she was allowed to at the hospital, bothering Rickon and watching Theon sleep. Today was no different, now that they were nearing the end of the second week. 

Sansa wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees, watching as Theon’s chest rose and fell quietly. It had been two weeks and he still hadn’t woken up. They’d removed the ventilator the week earlier, and Sansa’s heart had clenched that he might not breathe on his own, but he had. The bruises on his face had started to fade, the hair they’d shaved was growing back in, and she thought it felt like bunny fur when she stroked the side of his head.

  
Arya and Margaery had been sitting with her earlier before Robb had sulked in and asked Margaery to go get coffee and Arya had received a phone call that Gendry had gotten stuck on the roof. Gendry was nice, Sansa had told Arya when she’d introduced him to the family finally. She’d groaned and Gendry had grinned, and told them he was thrilled to finally meet his wife’s family.

  
“You would’ve loved it, Theon. Mom’s face turned purple, I swear. She was so mad, couldn’t believe that Arya had gotten married without telling anyone. She said she’s throwing a party once everyone is out of the hospital,” she told him quietly. She didn’t expect an answer, but to sit and say nothing felt wrong. Theon was never quiet, he always had some sort of remark or opinion to add, and it felt wrong to see him without hearing his voice. Her chest ached to go back to Rickon’s room, but he had banished her, claiming she was hovering too much and he didn’t need Lyanna thinking he was a baby. Lyanna had snorted and continued the wolf drawing she had started on his cast, assuring Rickon that he was a baby.

  
Yara came and went out of Theon’s room like a shadow, never speaking to anyone but him with a low whisper in what Sansa had realized was Ironmenic. Theon had tried to teach Robb and her the first summer they spent together, when he still had a heavy Ironborn accent. She knew the conversations Yara had with her brother weren’t for her, but she still longed to hear his answers, to hear unfamiliar sounds fall from his lips.

  
The machines in the room felt louder today, she thought. Sometimes she felt like she was watching a fight play out on his face, the way his eyes would flutter and his chest would move faster. Other times, it was almost like he was dead. Brienne had assured all of them that Theon had gotten through the worst of it physically, but the rest of it was up to him. Willas had said Theon never did anything that involved getting out of bed before he was ready, and Robb had laughed and launched into some story from their childhood. Sansa had almost cried in relief, seeing a small smile break out on her brother’s face. Sansa was done crying though. She had cried enough, and she buried the need to deep inside. Arya had teased her, told her that she must’ve absorbed some of Theon’s iron during their reunion but Sansa knew better.

  
Over the years, her skin had turned to porcelain, to ivory, and to steel. Winter flowed through her veins, and she had passed the fear and sadness part of her emotions. She felt angry now, angry at Ramsay and at the prison that had failed to keep him there. Angry for another part of Rickon’s young life being ripped apart by a situation he’d been unfairly thrown into. She was angry for herself as well, that she felt guilt for killing Ramsay, although it wasn’t for him. She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind and instead focused on Theon.  
  


“When you wake up, Theon Greyjoy,” she whispered, holding her gaze steady on his face, “you are buying me the fanciest, most expensive dinner I can think of. And you’re going to wear a tie, and go the entire night without making a sex joke. That’s just the start of the list.”

  
A hand landed on Sansa’s shoulder and she startled, looking up to see the night nurse smiling faintly at her. “Visiting hours are over Ms.Stark. Mr.Greyjoy will be here when you return tomorrow.” Sansa nodded quietly and stood up, her back cracking as she gathered her things. She glanced at her phone as she left, numerous texts she had ignored finally getting her attention. She clicked into the ones from her siblings first.

  
_ Arya: Margaery and I are going to make margaritas and braid Robb’s hair. Come home once you’re done ghost mothering Theon. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Robb: Please come over and help me. I don’t want them to braid my hair. _

She stared at her phone for a moment, before closing the conversations with her siblings and texting Wylla instead.  
  
_ Sansa: Are you at work still? _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Wylla: Press 1 to receive our current store hours. Press 2 to come take shots in the storage room. _ _  
_ _  
_

Sansa grinned at her phone and shot back a 2, letting her feet carry her the familiar path to Wolf’s Den, the used book store that the Manderly sisters ran with their uncle. The wind was sharp around her as she walked, her hands shoved in her coat pockets. Winter was coming, and Sansa felt like it couldn’t be soon enough. Winter meant summer followed, and the sun would return to Winterfell, and she was determined to believe Theon would be awake to see it as well. Her boots sounded heavy on the pavement and she sniffled, focusing on the turns to the store.  
  


When she came to the store front, she stopped outside for a moment and looked at the new posters and flyers that were hung in the windows. Concerts and book signings Wolf’s Den were hosting, plus an announcement for the ale they were working on. Sansa smiled as she pushed the door in, the bell ringing loudly. Wylla looked up from behind the counter of their drink station, grinning widely.

“Looking good, Red! Wouldn’t believe you’re trying to live in a hospital for a second!” she said, her high voice chiming across the store. A man looked up from the records he was browsing but looked back down, shaking his head. Sansa crossed the store quickly, as Wylla clambered across the counter and flung her arms around her. They hadn’t seen each other in weeks, not even before everything with Ramsay had happened. Wylla and Wynafryd had gone to White Harbor for a few months to spend time with their grandpa, and had only returned a few days ago. Sansa sunk into her embrace and inhaled her scent. No matter where Wylla was, she managed to smell like a storm on the ocean and Sansa wouldn’t admit it, but the first year she knew her it reminded her of Theon. Wylla pulled away from her after a moment and leaned against the counter. Her nose was red where the sun had burnt it and her blonde roots were growing into the green hair she’d piled onto her head, pieces that had escaped falling around her face and ears.

“How was White Harbor?” Sansa asked, and Wylla laughed.  
  


“Same old, same old. Grandpa’s nuts, Mom begs us to move back home. Got a new tattoo though so that’s cool,” she said, pulling up the bottom of her bleach stained shirt to show Sansa a mermaid with long tangled hair like seaweed was inked under her breast, her blue scaled tail wrapping around her ribs to the back. Sansa leaned in closer and looked at how her hands were webbed, gills cut into her throat, and her open mouth full of fangs.

  
“It’s beautiful, Wylla!” she gasped and Wylla pulled her shirt down, tucking back into her jeans.

  
“Hurt like a bitch though, I’ll tell you that,” Wylla said. “Now, I think we were supposed to do shots in the storage room?”

  
“Please, I’ll even take that paint thinner vodka you love.”

“Wynafryd, I’m going off the floor!” she called over to her sister who waved a hand at her, never looking up from the book in front of her. Wylla led Sansa through the stacks of books surrounding them. They didn’t speak as they slipped through the door in the back, just walked quietly until Wylla filled her arms with different bottles of liquor she’d stored there over the years. Sansa sat cross legged on the floor, shrugging her heavy coat off and Wylla sat down across from her, bottles tumbling from her arms and popped the lid off a bottle of vodka.

  
“Just like you requested, paint thinner!” she said and took a drink from the bottle before passing it to her. Sansa took a swig and held back a cough as it burned her throat. She handled the bottle back to Wylla, opening and closing her mouth trying to get the taste out.

  
“That is disgusting, as always. Why do we keep drinking it?” she asked, reaching for the bottle of coke by Wylla’s thigh and chasing the burn down with it.

  
“Because we’re masochists? Because we hate ourselves? Because it’s cheap? Who the hell knows,” Wylla said and Sansa laughed. Wylla took another drink and Sansa traded her the bottles. “Now, Smalljon’s keeping me in the loop, but I’m pretty sure he’s wrong a lot and I say that with all the love in my heart that I have for him, which is a fucking lot. Tell me what happened.” Sansa took a drink and reached for the coke again before answering.

  
“Theon’s alive, Rickon’s leg is broken, I killed a guy. You know, typical Stark family drama,” she said, and launched into the story as they passed the bottle back and forth. As Sansa got to the part about Robb’s breakdown, Wylla cut her off.

  
“Wait, wait, wait. You mean to tell me that Robb had a massive breakdown and ran off to Bloody Gate and you didn’t follow him? That’s not very Stark Wonder Twins of you.” Sansa laughed as she swallowed, and slammed her fist against her chest. 

“He wasn’t very interested in talking to me, Wylla. Which I guess is fair, all things considered.”

  
“Oh yeah, all things considered, it wasn’t.” Sansa raised her eyebrows and Wylla continued. “Listen, at this point Robb just assumed you knew Theon was alive, but he didn’t know if he was right or just batshit crazy. What did he want you to do? Clutch your pearls and faint?”

  
“He wanted me to tell him the truth.”

  
Wylla rolled her eyes. “The truth, as far as Robb Hoster Stark knew, was that Theon was dead. You know I’m fond of your brother, but he’s a fucking drama queen and you’re always letting him stand and wail like a witch from Macbeth.” A snort escaped from Sansa and Wylla grinned at her.

  
“Okay, so maybe you’re right. Robb’s a drama queen and was a dick, but I was a dick for,” Sansa paused when Wylla’s eyebrows raised, her round eyes blinking, “I wasn’t a dick. It wasn’t for Robb to know, or me.”

  
“Go on,” Wylla urged her.

  
“People can be as mad as they fucking want!” She took another drink of the vodka before continuing. “None of us were supposed to know Theon was alive, my stupid ass was just the one who saw and confronted him. I’m the one who kept the fucking secret! Robb would’ve told me, and Yara! It would’ve been a mess, just like every other secret Robb’s supposed to keep. Gods, I love him but he’s so thick sometimes!”

  
“Thick as a fucking maple syrup taffy!”

  
“And he acted like I betrayed him? Imagine, me, Sansa Stark, betraying Robb! I’d be more likely to kiss Baelish again!” Petyr Baelish’s face appeared before Sansa’s eyes and she blinked him away, willing him to go wherever she was banishing Ramsay’s face as well.

  
“I’m going to put his head in a box and throw it in the ocean!” Wylla chimed in, kneeling towards her, her voice growing louder. “It’ll be great. And after that we should spray paint ‘Crybaby’ on Robb’s guitar case.” Sansa laughed again, matching Wylla’s stance.

  
“Crybaby Robb Stark! The name of the next Direwolves album, it’ll just be about Margaery's hair in the moonlight and how I hurt his feelings by not telling him our dead friend was alive in witness protection.”

  
Wylla threw a hand against her forehead, and gasped. “Not Robb’s precious feelings!” They fell into a pile, drunken giggles escaping them both for a few moments before Sansa stopped to catch her breath.

  
“Thank you, Wylla.”

  
“No problem Red. I’m always in your corner,” she said, her playful smile on her face.

  
“I do feel bad that Robb broke down, and that Yara was angry with me. I don’t feel bad that I kept Theon’s secret, though,” she said quietly, and Wylla nodded. “It’s just like, I know it hurt them but what am I supposed to do? Go back in time and convince Theon to do something, anything, differently? He wouldn’t be our Theon then. He wouldn’t be my Theon.” Sansa stretched her hand out in front of her into the air, flexing her fingers around the dust. 

  
“Changing things would’ve just brought us to where we are now, let’s be real. Ramsay Bolton had this thing in action way longer than before you became reacquainted with Theon’s penis.”

  
“Wylla!”

  
“I’m right!”

  
“Yeah, but don’t talk about his penis.”

  
“Why, is it bad?” Sansa snorted and sat up, her arms resting on her knees.

  
“Theon’s penis, I’ll have you know, is fantastic,” she announced and Wylla cackled, sitting up next to her with wild eyes.

  
“I wish I could’ve recorded Sansa Stark saying someone’s penis is fantastic. What a missed chance!” Sansa giggled again and rested her forehead on Wylla’s shoulder, the warm blanket from the vodka surrounding her.

  
“Everything about Theon is fantastic, Wylla,” she said, and Wylla hummed and patted her back. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” The question hung in the air for a few moments, but eventually Wylla answered her.

  
“He will, but if he happens not to, I’m sure you’ll fight the Old and New Gods to wake him up,” Wylla told her and Sansa tilted her face up to her, grinning.

  
“Will you fight with me?”

  
“Of course Sans, to the end,” Wylla smiled back at her and Sansa fell into giggles again, and Wylla pulled her up off the floor. They stumbled out of the backdoor with their coats opened and hands intertwined as they walked towards Wylla’s apartment.

  
“It’s snowing,” Sansa said, pausing to look up at the sky and the soft flakes that fell from it. “It’s a new snow, too. That’s a good sign.” Wylla agreed, and for the first time in two weeks, Sansa truly believed Theon would wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love Sansa in this house, and we love her having friends outside of Arya and Margaery as well. If GRRM can do what he wants, I can too!!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this update, I don't plan on going AWOL again. 
> 
> Hopefully the next chapter will be up before the end of the week. 
> 
> Please let me know what you guys all think!


	24. Your Fortune Is Your Life's Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ocean surrounded him as he fell deeper and deeper, the fingers of the water pulling him down as he tried to swim up. The salt didn’t sting his eyes, and he wasn’t coughing, but the ocean claimed him all the same, dragging him into the halls of his ancestors. There was no light here, just miles of inky blackness ahead and around him. Theon walked along quietly, the dripping water echoing everywhere, a distant sound of crashing waves above. The further he walked, he started to notice doors appearing on either side of him, familiar voices and noises spilling out of them.

“Theon!” The voice called and he paused, trying to place it. “C’mon Theon, keep up! Maron and Yara are going to beat us to the top if you don’t stop petting every cat you meet!” 

_ Rodrik. _

It was his oldest brother’s voice, laughing and bold calling to him from where he stood on the path up the mountain. Theon’s little legs ran, giggles escaping him as he caught up to him and wondered if he would ever be so tall. His face was wide and bright, so different from how Theon remembered it now. 

“Maron, tell us a story,” Yara said, her arms wrapped tightly around his chest as they hit another bump in the road. They were in the back of Balon’s old pick up truck, driving to the beach, Theon too little to sit without being held.

“Aye, I’ll tell you a story. Once there were two little shits who always cried when their older brother took their candy,” he said, winking at them and Theon pouted.

“A good story, Maron!” he begged, and Maron rolled his eyes and leaned close, telling them a story of pirates, and the deep sea, his voice a comforting blanket that Theon had forgotten.

He blinked, the sudden memories of his brothers before they fell into circles with dangerous people, and destroyed their own lives startling to see. Theon hadn’t thought of his brothers in a kind light in years, the pain they caused a longer lasting memory, and his heart ached. 

A soft, far away song caught his attention and he moved forward, the gentle voice enticing him, words too muffled to understand. As he moved down the hall, there were doors shaking and pounding, water pouring out of them like a storm. He paused at one, trying to place the voice that yelled over the crying, and then he realized -

  
  
“You’ll never be anything!” His father’s voice yelled through the door and he flinched, shrinking away from it. He walked faster after that, ignoring the yelling and crying that seemed to come from every part of his life until laughter overtook it. He closed his eyes and focused on it, Robb’s loud, full bodied laugh covering the yelling behind him.

  
  
“Theon, what was that?”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” his own voice answered but it was so much younger, and smaller.

“For what? That was so funny. You’re funny, I like you,” Robb’s answer came quickly and easily, like Theon should’ve known it all along. He kept moving down the hall, Robb’s words and laughs soon joined by his siblings, and warm voices of his parents. 

He heard Yara’s voice next though, loud and excited, the noise of her bar behind her.

  
  
“College?”

“Yeah, I got accepted.”

“Theon, that’s fantastic!” The Greyjoys weren’t much for physical affection, but Yara had hugged him and ruffled his hair.

  
  
The next thing he picked out from all the noise was some song he vaguely remembered from his childhood, and Sansa’s small giggle over it.

  
  
“Thanks for coming to get me.” It was a whisper, Sansa’s voice soft and sweet.

“Yeah, well, it’s nothing,” he answered and Theon recognized this scene from Sansa’s senior prom. He remembered how her red curls had sat piled on top of her head, and the red splotches from Joffrey’s bloody nose that stained her baby pink gown reminded him of war paint, and the purpling of her knuckles was a beautiful, but terrifying mark of the wolf Sansa was at heart.

  
“It’s not nothing, you could’ve called my dad or Robb. Or just left me with Joffrey.”

  
“No one deserves to get left with that gremlin, except maybe his own parents.”

  
“Theon?”

  
“Yeah?” But he knew how it played out, Sansa didn’t say anything after that, instead pressed a soft kiss to his lips and then pulled away, a wild blush on her face and she’d scurried out of his truck so fast she almost tripped over her gown. Before she had headed into the house though, she had turned and waved to him, smiling brightly. He stood at this memory for a few minutes, Sansa’s bright smile replaying for him.

  
  
The song called to him again, louder this time, breaking his trance. The words were almost familiar now, and he heard himself hum a melody he hadn’t heard in years. He stepped forward again, trying to find the voice.

As he walked, he heard Yara’s voice, strained and sad.

  
“Dad’s dead. Heartattack, last night.”

  
“He’s dead?” There was no great love between Theon and Balon, but his heart still ached, ached for what the Starks had with Ned. It ached for the countless nights Theon had run from his dad, hiding away in Robb’s room. He had spiraled, the surface too hard to reach in the murky fear that had consumed him. 

Words fell from his mouth, matching a tired but happy voice that seemed to guide him from the darkness. “Take on the situation but not the torment, now you know it's not as bad as it seems. Well, I’d know you like to come away, baby you can’t come, what’s the next line of the song” he sang to himself as he walked quicker, unwilling to relive the chaos he had put himself and the people he loved through, and then it was Ned’s voice that stopped him.

  
  
“Son,”

  
“Don’t call me that,” Theon had hissed at him from the hospital bed.

  
“Theon, listen. Cat and I want to help. Let us help you, please. Don’t throw your life away,” Ned said from the chair beside his bed, the same look on his face he gave Robb whenever he’d failed a test, the concerned gaze he gave Sansa when she pushed herself too hard, and now he was giving it to Theon. He had cried for an hour after that, begging him to forgive him. Ned had, he always did.

  
  
The further he walked, more memories played out. Sansa, Robb, and Yara’s voices dancing around him, soon replaced with Oberyn and Willas, then the rest of their friends. Loving taunts and teases, calling him Harras and assuring him he was family. That they loved him. Theon ached to stay, to listen to their voices as his flesh rotted away, but the voice was so loud now, the song stirring memories he hadn’t realized he clung to, her long fingers stroking his hair, her rough voice like the sea anytime the song was on the radio, 

“Anytime you think about leaving, think about what you know. Well think about it, think about it before you go”, it called to him, and his feet pushed him faster, like he was chasing her. He ran until his feet caught each other and he stumbled to the floor, his hands catching his fall and chest heaving. When he looked up, a little girl was sitting with her back to him, combing through dripping wet hair, a golden red stream down her shoulders. A warped crown made of driftwood and seaweed sat atop her head and he swore there were pearls dripping onto the ground. He watched her in awe as her steady combing motion continued, her voice like a siren’s.

  
  
“And the heart says danger, and the heart says whatever it is that you want from me, I am just one small part of forever. Falling, star, star-”

  
  
“You can’t be,” he said softly, and she turned quickly, her face almost shifting as she did, and Theon could’ve sworn he saw more teeth than he could count when she grinned brightly at him, her pale skin stretching across her face. 

“What are you doing here so soon, Little Fish?” she asked him, the loving voice far too old for her small face asked him. He just stared at her slack jawed, watching as her stormy ocean eyes traveled his face. She stood and knelt in front of him, then settled her tiny hands on either side of his face, her thumbs stroking under his eyes.

“You’ve grown up since I last saw you. Not much of a little fish anymore, are you?”

  
“No, I’m not,” he answered softly and she smiled at him.

  
“You have to swim back up, you know. You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

  
“I don’t want to,” he said, realizing the truth in his own words. Life had hurt, and he was tired. He had been tired when he’d presented himself to Ramsay, and when he’d seen Rickon again. He’d been so tired the night he was reunited with Sansa. Theon struggled to remember a time he wasn’t tired. She clicked her tongue at him and moved a hand up to brush hair out of his face.

“Oh, Little Fish. There’s nothing down here for you that can’t wait. Let me do this one last thing for you.” He choked back a cry, but nodded. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and stepped away from him, her smile more motherly than teeth this time. “You’ve been so brave. You’re a good man, Theon.” It was the last thing he heard as water rushed the hallway, and the little girl’s teeth grew and grew, her face changing so many times to different faces he’d remembered and some he didn’t. 

He pushed himself up away from the floor, now desperate to keep his head above water. Theon swam for what felt like years until he saw the sun shining through the surface of the water. 

Theon blinked and gasped as he broke the surface, his eyes adjusting to the bright lights he suddenly realized weren’t the sun. He was staring up at the ceiling, and the voices around him were hushed, the steady beeping of a machine in his ear. There was a woman’s voice singing softly, the same song that had urged him down the halls of his ancestors,

_"Even when you feel like your life is fading, I know that you'll go on forever. You're that good_,"

And Theon couldn’t quite place it, it couldn’t be not really but it slipped out before he could stop himself -

“Mom?” his throat felt on fire as he said it, and someone was rushing over to him, and another person was yelling he was awake. The woman’s face hovered above him, a crass look on her face and he realized suddenly that it was Yara. She looked older, with small wrinkles around her eyes and her hair much longer, stripes of grey already settling in. Her eyes were red and she looked exhausted, and Theon felt something drip onto his face and he realized Yara was crying.

_No, that’s not right, _ he thought, _ Yara doesn’t cry._

“Yara,” he forced out, ignoring the drag of pain as he said her name.

  
“You little fucking bastard,” she said, and he felt a sharp pain on his arm her nails digging into his skin quickly, “you little piece of shit. You weren’t dead, you absolute piece of kelp.” She continued pinching him, and he smiled up at her.

  
“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, idiot. I’m going to kick your ass once you’re better, just so you know,” she said and the pinching stopped. Theon could hear as people came into the room, loud voices suddenly invading the small moment between them. A nurse was by his side, and the bed was rising, lifting him to a sitting position. A tall blonde woman was smiling at him from the end of the bed, a tired look on her face.

“Welcome back, Mr. Greyjoy, you scared a lot of people,” she said, her voice warm and tone light.

“Are Sansa and Rickon okay? What about-”

“All of your friends are alive and safe, Theon, no need to worry about that right now,” she said soothingly, “I’m Doctor Tarth, but you can call me Brienne. Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” Theon squinted at her, trying to decide whether or not he really wanted to argue with her. The nagging pain in his shoulder made his decision for him, though.

“Everything hurts,” he rasped, “and I’d love a glass of water.” Yara muttered something and Theon glanced over to her.

“That’s to be expected, gun shots aren’t exactly a walk in the park. With some physical therapy and lots of rest you’ll be right as rain though. You’re lucky that bullet in your stomach didn’t push through to your spine. And I’m sure we can get you some water,” she told him and he nodded. More nurses and doctors flooded in and out of his room, speaking to him and Yara, but he couldn’t focus on anything they were saying to him, too exhausted to process anything but Yara’s skinny hand clenched in his. He watched her as she nodded and spoke to them, absorbing the information they gave her. 

Eventually, the room went quiet around them, the last nurse fiddling with his morphine drip for a moment before stepping out. Yara watched him, tilting her head to the side and hesitantly pulled on one of the curls by his ear.

  
“What’s with the surfer douche blonde?” she asked after a moment.

  
“Ellaria offered to dye it once, then kept doing it after I asked. It felt good to, I don’t know, look like someone else?” The truth was that seeing his own reflection hurt too much, the red gold of his hair reminded him too much of their mom. His words felt slow, but Yara seemed to cling to them, her skinny fingers tracing down the curve of his nose. She watched him like she was committing his face to memory, as though he was going to fade into the ether in front of her.

  
“I’m mad at you,” she said while she leaned back, her hand falling from his face. Theon felt his heart drop into his stomach and nodded silently. “I’m mad, because I’ve spent a long time missing you. I’m mad because I’ve got so many things I wanted to share with my baby brother and he wasn’t around.”

  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to, I didn’t think. I thought I was doing the right thing,” he whispered and her face softened, and the age Yara seemed to have gained faded, once again the young, fearless sister he remembered. 

  
“Hey, I didn’t say I was gonna be mad forever. I’m not. But I’m mad for right now, but I’m also relieved. We have time again, which is something we don’t usually get. Believe it or not, I love you, Theon. That’s part of loving people, loving them through the anger, and nothing could break that.”

  
“Who are you, and what did you do with my sister?” he asked, wincing as he laughed. He blinked rapidly, her face starting to swirl in front of him. She smiled at him and pushed his curls back and placed a quick kiss against his forehead.

  
“Sleep, Little Fish. We’ll all be here when you wake up,” her voice was their mom’s again, and Theon slept. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised Theon wouldn't die! It just took us a minute to get here, because once again my perfectionist nature held this chapter hostage from all of us. 
> 
> Thankfully, it's here now! And Yara and Theon are finally reunited. 
> 
> The song that Alannys/The Drowned God and Theon and Yara is singing is [Think About It by Stevie Nicks](https://open.spotify.com/track/3LUj9JPrztXOZ4HgyphbvY?si=SVNm8zUESoWaZFW3C0811g).
> 
> It just felt right. 
> 
> As always, I love to hear what you all have to say, please leave me some feed back :)


End file.
